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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26212534">there's a first time for everything</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicyclehippo/pseuds/unicyclehippo'>unicyclehippo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Warrior Nun (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:54:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,336</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26212534</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicyclehippo/pseuds/unicyclehippo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a first time for everything and Ava intends to collect on that idea, with the help of her new friends. Family? </p>
<p>This was written for the prompt: All the girls teaching Ava how to do the little things she missed growing up.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>417</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>What do you plan on doing with this second chance?</em> </p><p>Ava couldn’t see him. He was behind her, moving too quick for her to catch more than glimpse of the dark—hair or cloth or shadows, she can’t be sure—out of the corner of her eye. She twisted, snapping her head to the other side, trying to trick him up, trying to get him in sight.</p><p>Maybe he was just in her mind. Just a dream. Just a dream.</p><p>
  <em>We are connected, you and I. I can feel it. My Halo. It’s connected to me, a part of me as much as it is a part of you now. </em>
</p><p>Adriel didn’t touch her but she could feel the weight of his fingers where he held an inch from her, as though he existed beyond his body, as though some force pushed out from him into the world. The air around him was heavier, denser. Colder, too. She still couldn’t see him, but she could see the light that flared around her shoulders—the Halo had to be burning but Ava couldn’t feel the heat. Just cold.</p><p>
  <em>In my hands, I can piece you together. Will you subjugate yourself to me? Will you fear me?</em>
</p><p>The words were all wrong, bits and pieces of what he had said and what he had slipped into her mind but all in the wrong order. Didn’t matter. The message was all the same: he sucked. So much.</p><p>‘<em>—out, get out, get out</em>.’</p><p><em>Ava</em>. He said her name like he knew her and found her…small. A funny little curiosity to dare to face him. <em>I know a great many things. I understand you.</em></p><p>‘No.’</p><p><em>I do. I know you. Insignificant Ava. Lonely Ava. Fragile Ava. I know you. Do you fear me? Will you fear me? </em> </p><p>Who knew that cold could be intense enough to burn? Wild.</p><p><em>Fear me, Ava</em>.</p><p>‘No.’</p><p>
  <em>Fear me.</em>
</p><p>‘Get <em>out</em> of my <em>head</em>, man.’</p><p>
  <em>I won’t leave you, Ava.</em>
</p><p>The pressure against her back grew heavier until it was truly pushing against her and before she could flinch away, before she could try to run, it was happening all over again. His fingers pressed through armour, through cloth, until they were up against her skin; the cold was so intense it seared her skin, nerves vaulting right over numb and sprinting toward agony. It began over the scar Lilith had given her, cutting directly over the Halo, before the cold moved deeper. The shock of him touching her—<em>this is a dream, it’s a dream, please let it be a dream</em>—was at once the worst thing that has ever happened to her and then immediately was overtaken by the actual worst thing as the cold, as <em>Adriel</em>, moved deeper, sinking <em>through</em> her flesh to curl around the metal band. The Halo flared and Ava wished she knew if that were a defence mechanism or a proximity thing because just <em>once</em> in her new life she would like to know exactly who and what was on her side. Was the Halo hers? Adriel’s? Something else?</p><p>Pain burned the question out of her mind; he gripped at the Halo and <em>pulled</em> and Ava swore she could feel it moving, the metal grinding against her spine. It was as if it clung to her, tearing fiercely in an effort to remain in place, drawing everything with it—her lungs seized, the air sucked out of them, her veins felt like all the blood had been reversed in its flow, all her energy, her soul itself, was being sucked backwards and out of her along with the steady shift of the Halo being held by someone stronger, someone who knew the fuck what he was doing with it.</p><p>The Halo flared again, brighter, hotter. That time, Ava swore she could smell burning—herself? her clothes?—but there was nothing she could do because of all the stupid things to come of this, the Halo gave her the ability to <em>feel</em> all of this and it hurt, it hurt so goddamn much to have it being pried out of her back and—</p><p>‘Dump some water on her, that’ll do the trick. Shock to the system.’</p><p>‘Don’t you dare.’</p><p>‘Hey, c’mon, it’s not an bad idea, Bea. A little water never hurt anybody.’</p><p>‘We could bless it,’ someone muttered.</p><p>‘She’s not <em>possessed</em>.’</p><p>‘Could’ve fooled me with all that yelling.’ A moment, Then, ‘But she’s not fooling anyone pretending to be asleep now. Hey – I <em>see</em> you, Miss <em>I’m totally still asleep.</em> Open your eyes already, let’s go.’</p><p>Ava fought her befuddled brain to put a name to that voice. Mary. Mary.</p><p>‘Yeah, I’m here. And so are you, so let’s go already.’</p><p>‘Give her a moment.’</p><p>‘She’s had a whole load of moments.’</p><p>‘Give her another. You heard what she was saying.’ That wasn’t Mary. Another moment passed before it clicked. The voice belonged to Beatrice. Ava would know that voice anywhere. She didn’t think she’d met anyone who spoke the way Beatrice did. She sounded like a jar.</p><p>‘Huh. A jar. Okay.’</p><p>‘Don’t make fun of her.’</p><p>‘Oh you can’t stop the fun I’m gonna make.’</p><p>Beatrice clicked her tongue. When she spoke again, she wasn’t louder exactly. Just…closer. ‘Can you open your eyes? Ava?’</p><p><em>Ava? Oh. She’s talking to </em>me<em>.</em></p><p>She stirred. Kicking a foot out, her heel connected with the end of the couch she’d been laid out on. Head bent down toward her chest, the back of her skull and shoulders pressed up against the arm of the couch. It had been comfortable enough the night before but for some reason it felt way too goddamn small now. Ava kicked again. Hands touched her shoulders and she felt more than saw the way the Halo burned with a warning flare; the hands pulled away instantly, someone muttering what sounds like an apology. Flinging an arm over the back of the cough, Ava heaved herself upright, trying to pull up and out of the dream and the too-soft cushions. Despite the effort, she didn’t think she moved very far. It was another moment before she could get her eyes open. Her eyelids wouldn’t cooperate. They hurt. How could eyelids <em>hurt</em>? She hadn’t known that was possible.</p><p>She forced them open anyway.</p><p>Standing over her was Mary, who pulled back with a shitty effort at masking her concern. ‘Finally. Took your goddamn time about it,’ she huffed, no real heat to the words. ‘Atta girl, let’s go.’</p><p>‘Go?’ Ava croaked, mouth drier than orphanage meatloaf but she had to ask. Worry twisted in her gut like a knife. Pretty fucked up she knew what that felt like, when she thought about it. She stopped thinking about it. Mary frowned, confused. Ava licked her lips and tried again. ‘Go where?’</p><p><em>‘</em> Figure of speech, Sleeping Beauty. We aren’t going anywhere.’</p><p>‘Oh.’</p><p>‘But also, when you’re ready, I’ll be in the kitchen.’</p><p>Ava squinted up at her. Words cluttered at the tip of her tongue—<em>you’re leaving me?—</em>but she’d had plenty of training recently at keeping her thoughts inside of her head. Especially the ones that made her sound like some whiny little kid. ‘Okay?’</p><p>Mary set a hand on Ava’s head. Her palm was warm and dry and she didn’t make fun of Ava when she leaned into the touch. Just gave Ava’s head a pat before she turned and limped across the room.</p><p>Ava watched her go.</p><p>From outside the walls of the motel, neon light drenched everything in red. Ava could <em>swear</em> she could hear them, an awful high-pitched whine that buzzed the little bones in her ears. Mary crossed the room and light flung her shadow long across the floor and wall; red swirled around her feet, turned the dust and humidity in the air into a wraith.</p><p>Ava’s fingers buzzed with panic. The outline of her hands flickered, blurred, sinking into the couch.</p><p>‘Mary!’</p><p>Mary stopped at her name. Turned, a hand planted on the doorframe. ‘Yeah?’</p><p>A car rattled its way down the street. The glow of its headlights poured through the window like a torch atop a lighthouse; the beam swept past Ava toward Mary and everything it touched came into vivid clarity, the grey blanket of night recoiling from it.</p><p>Light blue carpet, slightly stained. Most of it old, probably coffee. Some of it new, definitely blood. Ava thought of feeling bad about the blood—some of it, okay, <em>most</em> of it being her own—but she didn’t. The carpet was ugly. It should’ve been burned years ago.</p><p>A threatening pile of black turned out to be their bags and coats.</p><p>The blue couch she was laid out on, upholstery lightly frayed.</p><p>The glint of some metal not divinium, not devil claws, just the posts of the bed stood deeper into the room.</p><p>No demon.</p><p>Ava’s breath hitched. She sucked in a deep lungful of crisp night air and let it stream out. It felt stupid now, <em>she </em>felt stupid now, but Mary’s eyes were expectant on her and also… It couldn’t hurt to say it.</p><p>‘Be careful?’</p><p>‘I’m gonna be right in here,’ Mary told her, real soft. Then, she added, ‘I will be,’ which reached right into Ava’s chest and gives the Halo a twist, loosening the tension humming up and down her spine.</p><p>Ava sank back against the arm of the couch. ‘Okay. Mary?’</p><p>Mary narrowed her eyes, familiar by now with Ava’s tone of mischief. ‘Yes?’</p><p>She smirked. ‘Sleeping Beauty?’</p><p>‘Ugh. Shut up.’</p><p>‘I know I’m hot but –’</p><p>‘What part of <em>shut up</em> don’t you get? Bea, take care of this idiot.’</p><p>‘<em>Hot</em> idiot,’ Ava corrected before Mary’s words really struck. <em>Bea? Oh right – shit – Beatrice!</em> Snapping her head sideways, Ava offered a sheepish smile to the girl kneeling beside the couch but it wasn’t returned. Instead, Beatrice looked worried. <em>Beatrice. </em>Beatrice, who had back-up plans for her back-up plans. Totally capable, totally kick-ass, totally clever and talented and lovely Beatrice—</p><p>
  <em>Huh. Should she examine that thought? Nah, that was something for future Ava. Back to Beatrice. </em>
</p><p>She looked <em>concerned</em>.</p><p>‘Hey, what’s wrong? Where’s the hellfire?’ Ava joked. She tried to press up on her elbows and turn to face Beatrice properly and an ache—not pain exactly but close to it, like the way heat had settled into her skin that day on the beach, just as Chanel had warned her it might—bloomed over her back. She hissed. ‘Wait, let me guess—my back,’ Ava said with a laugh.</p><p>Beatrice frowned for real, brows coming together so fast Ava was surprised she didn’t hear the collision. ‘Does it hurt?’ One hand lifted partway to Ava before Beatrice let it drop, folded her hands together in her lap.</p><p>Ava concentrated. It was scary every time the Halo was drained, having to think and force herself to move. Made her feel like all she had to do was <em>blink</em> and she’d be right back where she had started—not just paralysed but back in old Francis’s clutches. Her gut clenched, fear gripping it tight with cold fingers, and she shivered.</p><p><em>Get a grip</em>, Ava told herself firmly. <em>He’s not here. You’re not paralysed. You’re just being a scaredy-cat.</em></p><p>Beatrice’s frown deepened.</p><p><em>Oh right. I was trying to move</em>.</p><p>Ava rolled her shoulders back and then forward. Lifted a hand behind her back and hoped Beatrice didn’t see it shaking. She didn’t quite touch the Halo but brushed the tips of her fingers over the scar above it, where Lilith’s knife had sunk in.</p><p>‘No,’ she said after a moment. ‘No, it’s fine. I’m fine.’ <em>A little achy, maybe</em>, she didn’t add. After all, she could heal and the others couldn’t. They were all left with the cuts and scrapes and bruises they’d amassed.</p><p>There was a bruise blooming on the underside of Beatrice’s jaw, purple and green.</p><p>A spark of impulse shot down Ava’s arm, into her wrist, her hand, and she was helpless but to obey they urge to reach out; it met another spark on contact, when Ava touched her fingertips to Beatrice’s jaw. Dragged her thumb very lightly over the bruise, not wanting to - <em>never </em>wanting to - hurt her even more.</p><p>Beatrice’s eyes went wide. She swallowed. Ava felt it against the back of her fingers that rested lightly against her neck.</p><p>‘It’s just a bruise,’ she told Ava, voice quiet, as she pulled back.</p><p>Ava copied her. Pulled back from Beatrice’s space. She curled her fingers in toward her palm, enjoying the sensation, the rush. ‘I wish I could heal it.’</p><p>Beatrice shook her head. ‘I assure you, it’s nothing.’ She sat back on her heels and the frown from before eased. ‘I’m glad you’re alright, Ava.’ She accepted Ava’s double thumbs-up with a bemused—possible <em>a</em>-mused—smile. ‘May I ask you something?’</p><p>
  <em>Please don’t ask about the dream, please don’t ask about the dream, please don’t—</em>
</p><p>‘You said I sound like a jar.’</p><p>‘You’re welcome,’ Ava said reflexively.</p><p>Beatrice tilted her head to the side. Ava distracted herself wondering if she measured the tilt every time Beatrice did it, if it would always be exactly the same. She suspected it would be. Beatrice was precise like that.</p><p>‘What…does it mean?’</p><p>‘Wow. <em>Wow</em>. Fishing for compliments? I thought vanity was a big no-no for nuns.’</p><p>Ava groaned as she swung her legs sideways and down, off the couch. From there, it took her two tries to stand—she collapsed back the first time, couch creaking. Exhaustion had hollowed out her kneecaps and left them wobbly, weak. She tried again, teeth gritted, and that time Beatrice stood out of her seat on the floor and moved to help Ava to her feet. Her hands curled around Ava’s elbows to steady her; they were cold against her skin and Ava shivered so powerfully it could be mistaken as a flinch.</p><p>Beatrice snatched her hands back, stepped away. She folded her hands behind her back.</p><p>An apology crowded up behind Ava’s teeth. She bit it back. Apologising would mean explaining and she didn’t want to do that. So she pretended not to notice, instead turning away to pick up the jacket she’d been using as a pillow, shrugging it on.</p><p>‘I have no idea why I said it. I was waking up,’ Ava told her, and rubbed knuckles into the corners of her eyes with a yawn for good measure.</p><p>‘I see.’</p><p>‘Funny though. I’ll think about it.’</p><p><em>I won’t be able to help it. What the </em>hell<em> does that mean? You sound like a </em>jar<em>? </em></p><p>‘Don’t strain anything,’ Beatrice said, far too sweet to be genuine, and smiled when Ava shot her a suspicious look. She smoothed the front of her wrinkled sleep shirt—plain white, mostly, except for a little black cat curled at the hem. It, and the rest of their civilian clothes, had been collected from a charity store they’d broken into in their flight from the city—which was totally okay and not theft at all because they were very much in need and totally deserving recipients of charity, and also because Beatrice had scattered some notes onto the cashier’s table as they snuck out.</p><p>‘Ava?’</p><p>‘Huh?’</p><p>Beatrice’s smile grew, just a little. ‘Mary is waiting for you.’</p><p>‘Oh. Right.’</p><p><em>Take a step</em>. Ava wobbled at the thought and grabbed at the couch arm with a white-knuckled grip. Stupid legs. Stupid knees. The fight with Adriel must have really taken it out of her. Well. Out of the Halo, anyway. She peeked up at Beatrice from under her lashes.</p><p>‘Would you mind…’</p><p>Beatrice was at her side a moment later. If Ava didn’t know any better, she might’ve thought Beatrice looked pleased. Or relieved.</p><p>‘Thanks.’</p><p>‘Of course.’</p><p>They hobbled together – Beatrice walked, Ava hobbled – toward the kitchen door. It was only a few metres but it felt like it took forever. Not least because Ava found herself negotiating with every step how much weight she should be putting on Beatrice, and whether trying to talk right now would be a bad idea with how stupidly tired she was, and Beatrice was always quiet but now she felt <em>quiet</em> quiet, which was different, somehow.</p><p>Ava had just convinced herself <em>not</em> to begin a potentially hours-long recitation of the plot of her favourite show when Beatrice said,</p><p>‘It was a compliment, then.’ From her, the promptless comment was as good as blurting it out, no matter how even her tone.</p><p>‘The totally weird thing where I said you sound like a jar?’ Beatrice nodded. ‘Definitely. <em>No</em> clue what the hell –’</p><p>‘Language.’</p><p>‘– it meant but yeah, a compliment.’</p><p>‘Hm. Thank you, then.’</p><p>‘You’re welcome?’</p><p>‘Are you two <em>quite</em> done yet?’ Lilith demanded. She had made her way into the kitchen as well, somehow getting there before them though Ava would’ve sworn she had been on the bed when she and Beatrice had begun their hobble. Since the kitchen was actually more of a squashed pantry—no table, no chairs, barely enough room for a two-ringed stovetop and a microwave so old the plastic has yellowed—Lilith had settled for leaning against the wall.</p><p>Ava stared.</p><p>It was weird. Sometimes she forgot that Lilith was, well, human. But then she went and did things like have her hair all tousled from sleep, and tap her fingers against her mug like it was slightly too hot to hold comfortably, and lick her spoon after she stirred her tea before discarding it into the sink with a clatter of metal. And she had <em>elbows</em>. Ava had suspected for some time that she did—she’d been hit by something that had <em>felt</em> like an elbow—but it was one thing to suspect it and quite another to actually <em>see</em> Lilith’s elbows poking out from under her scavenged sleepshirt.</p><p>Lilith’s said, <em>Sleep, Eat, Kick Ass, Repeat. </em></p><p>‘Cute shirt.’</p><p>Lilith sliced a look over to her, unimpressed. ‘Yours looks like it was made for a ten-year-old boy.’</p><p>Ava grinned. ‘Twelve-year-old, actually.’</p><p>‘Hm.’</p><p>‘I’m surprised you haven’t altered yours yet. Rude attire, Sister Lilith? For shame.’</p><p>Lilith rolled her eyes. Sipped at her tea. ‘It’s not as though we have scissors here.’</p><p>‘Maybe not,’ Ava agreed. ‘But Beatrice probably has, like, eight knives.’ Beatrice pursed her lips but didn’t correct Ava. ‘Wait.’ This was more important than teasing Lilith. She turned to face Beatrice full on. ‘Do you <em>actually</em> have eight knives?’</p><p>‘No.’</p><p>‘Ah.’</p><p>‘I have six.’</p><p>‘<em>Six</em>? How do you sleep with all of them on you?’</p><p>‘Carefully.’</p><p>‘Jesus Christ!’</p><p>‘Language.’</p><p>Ava just laughed. She examined Beatrice for a moment—two knives were on open display on her hip but where she could have the other four when she was out of her war-day habit, Ava had no idea. Her eyes dragged over the loose fabric of the shirt Beatrice wore, and her flannel pants, and—</p><p>Someone cleared their throat.</p><p>Ava jumped. Laughed. Looked back to Lilith. ‘Even if she didn’t let you borrow a knife, you still have these.’ Ava lifted a hand, wriggled her fingers.</p><p>Lilith frowned. ‘Your hand?’</p><p>‘What? No. <em>Your</em> hand. Your nails! Hm, maybe you don’t remember,’ Ava joked, ‘but they’re super long and sharp and awesome?’</p><p>She shouldn’t have said it. That much was clear by the warning squeeze Beatrice gave Ava’s arm—too late—and also from the way the colour drained from Lilith’s cheeks.</p><p>‘Excuse me,’ she muttered, setting her tea clumsily into the sink—she <em>really </em>shouldn’t have said it, Lilith was anything but clumsy—and walked blank-eyed through a flickering portal back to the bed. She sat on the edge of it, her back to the kitchen door where Ava stood.</p><p>Ava rocked back onto her heels and forward onto her toes. She bounced in place for a second before she dragged her attention away from Lilith and into the kitchen. ‘I’m not the only one who saw that, right?’ she whispered.</p><p>Mary huffed a breath. Not quite a laugh. ‘We saw it.’</p><p>‘We saw it,’ Beatrice agreed, equally quiet. ‘But this might not be the best time and place to discuss…that.’</p><p>‘It’s really not. What it <em>is</em>,’ Mary announced, and she spun the spatula in her hand in a way that had Ava second-guessing whether it was a weapon or utensil, ‘is time for <em>you</em> to learn to cook.’</p><p>The spatula was pointed at her. Ava turned to look behind her but there was no one there. She turned back. Pointed at her chest. ‘Me?’</p><p>‘Mhm.’</p><p>‘What? No.’</p><p>‘Yes.’</p><p>‘But I don’t know how –’</p><p>‘That’s exactly why you’re learning. C’mon, Bea, she’s a big girl, let her go.’</p><p>Beatrice pulled her hand away like she’d been shocked. She folded her arms across her belly and took a step away from Ava.</p><p>Ava shivered. Cold rushed to reclaim its place as she lost Beatrice’s warmth.</p><p>‘Good luck, Ava.’</p><p>‘Luck? Do I need luck?’</p><p>Beatrice didn’t answer. Mary shrugged. ‘Sure as hell –’</p><p>‘<em>Really</em>, Mary. Language.’</p><p>‘– couldn’t hurt.’</p><p>Ava gulped. ‘Is this going to hurt?’</p><p>‘I’ll go gentle on you,’ Mary said with a grin, and winked.</p><p>‘Don’t bother, I like it rough,’ Ava said before she could really think it through. All she had ever known was <em>Make joke </em>and <em>Small victories</em> and seeing Mary’s eyes go wide for an instant before she barked a laugh ticked both those boxes.</p><p>Beside her, Beatrice made a quiet, strangled noise she cut off with a cough. She excused herself right after that, hurrying back into the motel room proper.</p><p>‘Alright. We’re gonna start you out with toast and scrambled eggs. Almost impossible to fuck it up.’</p><p>Ava came to stand next to Mary. ‘Not to brag but I’m kind of the master of doing the impossible.’</p><p>Mary snorted. ‘That’s true, isn’t it?’ She nudged Ava, elbow tapping into her side. ‘How about this – I’ll be here the whole time and we’re <em>both</em> not gonna fuck it up. Sound alright?’</p><p>‘Yeah.’</p><p>‘Alright then.’</p><hr/><p>After washing her hands up to the elbows and tying her hair back, Mary let her back into the “kitchen”.</p><p>‘Here we go. Two eggs.’ Mary dropped them into Ava’s hand and she didn’t laugh or roll her eyes or anything as Ava took her time examining them. The shells were brown and lightly freckled, which was cute.</p><p>‘Huh. I thought they would feel different.’</p><p>‘Why’s that?’</p><p>‘They always look so…glossy on cooking shows.’</p><p>Mary nodded. ‘Everything looks better on cooking shows. Trust me – our food isn’t gonna look<em> anything</em> like that stuff. But so long as it tastes good…’</p><p>‘I’m okay with that,’ Ava laughed. She turned one of the eggs over. Jumped when the shell suddenly <em>cracked</em> between thumb and forefinger. The insides splashed down into her palm, dripping onto the counter. ‘Oh – oh shit – oh <em>fuck</em>,’</p><p>‘It’s fine, it’s fine, drop it into the bowl—<em>not </em>the shells, there you go. Now the second one.’</p><p>Ava bit her lip. She offered the egg up to Mary, who ignored her. ‘I don’t know what to do.’</p><p>‘Just tap it on the side of the bowl.’</p><p>‘But –’</p><p>‘Hey, I promise you – you just ran through twenty feet of stone. You can crack an egg.’</p><p>‘Right. Totally.’ It wasn’t really a matter of <em>if </em>she could do it—she had just crushed one egg with what felt like breathing on it wrong, after all. It was more a matter of doing something <em>right, </em>Ava thought but didn’t say. That was something she hadn’t done since getting her soul stitched back into her body.</p><p>Ava sidled back into place beside Mary. With a little demonstration, Ava took the egg and, holding her breath, mimicked Mary, tapping the egg against the side of the bowl. The shell split in two, everything dropping in alongside the other egg; victory sung through her in a rush and she laughed, jumped a few times in place.</p><p>‘I did it!’</p><p>‘I saw. Good job.’</p><p>Ava beamed. Struck a pose. ‘Thank you, thank you,’ she said, bowing to the rest of the empty kitchen. When the rush was all burned out, she returned to Mary’s side, who was shaking her head but like. All amused about it. ‘Pretty sad that it’s my first time, huh?’</p><p>The look she got for that comment was one she was still getting used to. Once Mary had warmed up to her, she suddenly became capable of looking at Ava with something like fondness, warmth. <em>Pride, </em>even. Ava ducked her head, hair falling to cover the side of her face so she couldn’t see Mary’s face when the other woman said,</p><p>‘Nah. Well, maybe, I don’t know. But it makes sense and there’s no point thinking about the shit you can’t change. You’re doing it now. That’s something.’</p><p>‘Look out Food Network.’</p><p>‘Alright, cool your jets. Maybe wait to see how this turns out before you start planning the pitch for your show.’</p><p>‘No need. I’ve had it planned for <em>years</em>.’</p><p>‘Oh?’</p><p>‘We used to watch cooking shows all Monday and we had this awesome plan for the show we would get one day. Get this—<em>Divine Foods</em> with Ava. Oh my god.’ Ava gasped, grabbed at Mary’s forearm. ‘<em>Mary</em>.’</p><p>‘Uh oh.’</p><p>‘If we do this show<em> together</em>, it could be <em>Divine Foods</em> with <em>Ava and Maria</em>.’</p><p>‘It’s Mary.’</p><p>‘Yeah but like <em>Ave Maria</em>.’ She ignored Mary’s mutter that <em>yes, she understood the joke</em>, <em>thanks, it’s just bad</em>, and said, all enthusiasm, ‘It’s a stage name. Show biz requires a little imagination like that.’</p><p>Mary snorted. Shook her head, and her arm, getting Ava to let her go. Cracking open the mini-fridge, she pulled out a bottle of milk she had got at some point—probably when Ava had been unconscious, or whatever—and added a splash of milk to their mix. She had Ava throw in the salt and pepper before taking a fork and showing her how to whisk it up.</p><p>By the time Ava actually started to get the hang of it, Mary had caught up with her own bowl.</p><p>Someone snored in the next room. Ava raised her brows to Mary in a silent question.</p><p>‘Beatrice.’</p><p>‘No.’</p><p>‘Mhm.’</p><p>‘She <em>snores?</em> You’re lying to me.’</p><p>‘Go check it out if you think so.’</p><p>Ava hesitated. Then nearly flung herself to the doorway, peeking around it. She waited a moment, the silence dragging, and she was starting to worry that she’d missed it when a tiny snore rumbled through the room from where Beatrice was sleeping. Ava’s smile pushed up into her cheeks, creasing into lines and dimples. She didn’t really know why, but knowing that the other girl snored was… It was remarkably <em>sweet</em>, for some reason. Beatrice kept herself so quiet most of the time, never saying things without purpose, that it was some kind of treat to see her be anything less than totally controlled.</p><p>‘You about done spying on her?’</p><p>‘I’m -' Ava spluttered. '<em>Spying</em>?’</p><p>‘That’s what I said.’</p><p>‘I’m not! I was just – curious. Do I snore?’</p><p>‘Like a truck.’</p><p>Ava narrowed her eyes at Mary. ‘You’re lying,’ she said after a moment, waving the comment away. ‘Diego would’ve said something if I did.’</p><p>Mary frowned. ‘Who’s Diego?’</p><p>Ava’s heart squeezed and it wasn’t just with love. Fear nailed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, forbade her from speaking. She promised she would take <em>care </em>of him, that she would <em>never </em>put him in danger, and while it was entirely unlikely that Mary would ever do anything to hurt him – certainly not on purpose anyway – she had enough questions and enough fears that she couldn’t do it.  </p><p>‘No one.’</p><p>Mary shrugged. ‘Okay.’</p><p>From one of the OCS packs, Mary pulled a flat plan—because apparently the nuns <em>actually </em>came prepared for anything, with camping gear and all—and set it down onto the stove. It clattered into place and they both froze. The sound was loud in the kitchen, in the earliest hours of cold morning; the sharpness of it splintered through the air like ice spider-webbing out from an impact. She tilted her chin toward the door and Ava nodded, slid on her socked feet to peek out once more.</p><p>Through the greys of shadow, Ava could see the other Sisters. Lilith and Camila were asleep on the bed still, or else laying still and quiet in the dark. And Beatrice, she had taken Ava’s place on the couch though she slept sitting up, her back against the arm of it and leant sideways, knees up around her chest. There was a blanket over her legs. It didn’t quite cover her feet and Ava grinned when she saw Beatrice’s toes dug into the gap in the couch between cushions.  </p><p>‘Well?’</p><p>‘Still sleeping.’</p><p>‘Good. They deserve that.’</p><p>‘Yeah.’ Ava pulled back, returning to Mary’s side. She took up her bowl again, ran her fingers over it. The plastic was red and smooth, except where it had been scratched. Her fingertip skimmed over the line, feeling the rough edges of it.</p><p>Mary fiddled with the dials and buttons on the stove, muttered a curse when something—Ava literally had <em>no</em> idea what—didn’t work.</p><p>‘Ooh, <em>language</em>.’</p><p>‘Like you’re one to talk.’</p><p>‘I’m an angel.’</p><p>‘You’re a little shit, is what you are. Ah! There we go.’</p><p>The red of the pilot light flickered on, igniting a ring of low orange flames. Ava stared at it, rolled her shoulders back; there was an echo of heat in her back that didn’t warm her, only served to show her how very cold the rest of her felt.</p><p>‘Mary?’</p><p>‘Mhm.’ The other woman poured a little oil into the pan. Picked up her bowl again as she waited for it to heat up.</p><p>‘Did I say anything in my sleep?’</p><p>The brisk whisk of eggs paused for a moment before picking back up. ‘I don’t know. Didn’t get to you until you started waking up.’</p><p>Ava span her fork lazily through the egg mixture and lifted it up, watched it drip back into the bowl. ‘Oh.’</p><p>‘Do you wanna talk about it?’</p><p>‘No.’</p><p>Though she didn’t look up from the bowl, Ava could see out of the corner of her eye the sideways look Mary levelled on her. She didn’t say anything, though.  Just hummed a bit, the sound thoughtful, before pouring her mix into the pan. She started to move it around with the spatula and Ava watched as scrambled eggs began to take form right in front of her eyes.</p><p>It was <em>pretty</em> cool. Running for the first time had been cool. Kissing a boy for the first time had been cool. Drinking coffee for the first time had been cool. Throwing a punch, lighting a candle, dancing in a club, blowing up a building—all of that, for the very first time, it had all been cool. Eggs should have seemed less cool than all those things, but the rush of doing something for the first time still seemed to linger.</p><p>‘I’d be surprised if you weren’t having nightmares. You’ve been through a <em>lot </em>in the last couple weeks. We all have. It’s okay.’</p><p>A cold little bubble of misery rose up into Ava’s throat. ‘You don’t think it’s because I’m scared?’</p><p>‘You’d be more of a fool than I think you are if you weren’t scared.’</p><p>Ava squinted at the bubbling eggs. ‘Thanks? I think?’</p><p>‘It’s okay to be scared, is what I mean. And nightmares suck but they’re normal too. It’s a way for your brain to come to terms with whatever is going on.’ She must have seen something on Ava’s face at that—something of the way Ava’s gut flooded ice-cold and her muscles seized with the thought of having that dream <em>again—</em>because Mary shook her head, spun the spatula in her hand and offered it to Ava. ‘I’ll leave it be. But,’ she added, holding onto her end of the spatula when Ava took it. She crouched a little so her eyes were on a level with Ava’s. ‘You can talk to me about it, if you want.’</p><p>
  <em>I don’t. I don’t want to think about it ever. </em>
</p><p>‘Did Sister Shannon have nightmares?’</p><p>Mary’s face went stony and, after a moment, she returned to the stove.</p><p>There came a spiteful sting of satisfaction Ava would never admit to, at seeing Mary withdraw. It was too early for an out-and-out fight of the kind they had had in the cave—and Ava was guessing – hoping? – that Mary wouldn’t punt her out of the second floor window while she’s still recuperating—so for now, she was guessing that Mary wouldn’t push questions that she didn’t want to answer herself.</p><p>The satisfaction sliced deep enough for guilt to bleed fast and hot, churning in her chest. Mary had lost a hell of lot in the last <em>really </em>short while, way more than Ava. Shannon. Lilith. Even if she came back, she came back different. Vincent.</p><p>Ava bit into her cheek and tasted iron. She poked at it with her tongue until a spark of heat burned over the chewed mark, healing it over.</p><p>‘Sorry.’</p><p>‘Sure you are.’ She didn’t sound like she believed Ava, which was fair.</p><p>‘I dreamed of her,’ Ava told her. She wasn’t sure if it was fair to share that, not when she could practically <em>feel </em>the sorrow that followed Mary around like her own personal shadow. Mary’s head cracked on her neck she turned so fast. Ava hurried to clarify. ‘Not tonight, not… Before, I mean. Back at Arq-Tech.’</p><p>‘Huh.’</p><p>‘She was tall. Taller than me.’ <em>Not difficult, </em>Ava thought but didn’t say. Not really the time for a joke. Even she could recognise that. ‘Dressed in chainmail. She was pretty. Sad.’</p><p>The words weren’t right. Pretty wasn’t right; she had been formidable, and severe, and proudly upright. Sad wasn’t right; she had been stoic, and reserved, and every word she said was burdened with despair until she had collapsed into real tears.</p><p>Ava focused on the eggs, now darkening a little, so that she didn’t have to see Mary’s face.</p><p>‘She said she found a family. Because of the Halo.’</p><p>‘Yeah? What else did she say?’</p><p>‘I don’t know that the dream was <em>real</em>,’ Ava warned Mary, voice quiet.</p><p>‘Just – please, Ava.’</p><p>She nodded. Racked her brain to recall what it had been that Shannon said. ‘We – okay – she talked about the Warrior Nuns, mostly. She had…questions, I guess? She said that the Halo…that being the Warrior Nun was a burden,’ Ava said and hurried quickly on, not wanting to sound like she was using this moment to complain. ‘She said she felt alone but that she found a family. And…that her family died.’</p><p>‘Yeah.’ Mary closed her eyes. Rubbed a hand over her face. ‘We lost some people.’</p><p>Ava focused harder on the eggs and shifted in place, trying to ignore the way the floor was starting to lose its structure underneath her. <em>Don’t run. Don’t run. Don’t run. </em>‘Are these eggs looking okay?’</p><p>Mary startled. Cleared her throat. ‘Yeah. Looks good. Let’s do yours now.’</p><hr/><p>Dawn bled over the rooftops. Every glint of red made Ava flinch and the second time she dropped the spatula, Mary waved her away from the stove. Allowing herself a moment of sulking, Ava hoisted herself up on the countertop and drummed her heels against the cupboard door.</p><p>‘Stop that.’</p><p>‘Stop what?’ Ava blinked innocently, swallowing down a grin as she kicked her legs again.</p><p>‘I’m serious. Unless you <em>want</em> the others to wake up.’</p><p>Ava shrugged. ‘Why not? We’re waking them up for breakfast, aren’t we?’</p><p>‘I was gonna ask you about why the hell the Halo was blasting like a supernova last night first, but hey – if you want everyone awake for that, it’s fine with me.’</p><p>Ava swallowed. Considered the window.</p><p>‘Do <em>not</em> even <em>think </em>about jumping out that window.’</p><p>‘I wasn’t,’ Ava lied.</p><p>‘Mhm.’</p><p>She eyed the window again but this time she wasn’t thinking about how much it’d hurt to hit the ground—and whether the Halo was actually up to healing her quickly after the whole Situation, as she had taken to calling it in her head. This time, she was looking at the slope of the roofs and the way light painted them all red and gold and the gulls roosting between the chimney stacks.</p><p>If she wished she was a bird, if she wished she could lay on the roof under the blazing sun and just <em>be</em>… Was that still selfish? Was that still her just wanting to run away?</p><p>‘I dreamed of him,’ Ava told Mary quietly.</p><p>Mary didn’t say anything. Just patted against Ava’s thigh, getting her to shuffle along so she could plate the eggs.</p><p>‘He was. Saying all these things and I—got scared. I got scared, okay?’ She laughed, lifted a hand to her face so she could scrub the first hint of tears away on her wrist, deter any more from falling. ‘It’s not—you don’t have to <em>worry</em>, I’m not going to run away again,’</p><p>‘What did he say to you?’</p><p>Ava swallowed. <em>Fear me</em>. ‘Nothing.’</p><p>‘C’mon, I know that’s not true. You <em>just</em> said he was—’</p><p>‘Okay, yeah, he said some things but it doesn't <em>matter </em>what he said,’ she cut Mary off, insistent. ‘It doesn’t matter because it was a dream and because <em>none of that</em> is going to happen. He’s a liar and—’ <em>We are the same, you and I. </em>‘Can you just leave it? Please?’</p><p>‘I can do that. For now.’</p><p>For now. That would have to be enough.</p><p>‘Go on, go wake everyone up. Be careful of Lilith—she’s <em>not</em> a morning person.’</p><p>‘Would you say she’s…hellish?’</p><p>‘<em>Not</em> funny.’</p><p>‘Oh come on, it’s a little funny.’ Ava backed up under the force of Mary’s glare. ‘Okay, okay, not funny. Good to know. So I’ll just…’ She hiked a thumb over her shoulder, toward the bedroom, and disappeared after it.</p><p>Appropriately made wary of Lilith, Ava made her way to Beatrice first.</p><p>Kneeling down by the couch, Ava reached out a gentle hand. ‘Beatrice,’ she whispered, touching the other girl’s shoulder. ‘Beatrice, it’s—<em>it’s just me</em>!’ she yelped and, too close and too slow to duck the knife, panic seized her and made her intangible. It was weird; she could still <em>feel</em> the knife, sort of—the first prick of its point touched her shoulder and she – the only word she had for it was <em>rippled</em> around it, like water, like smoke, like nothing. Then she was physical again, solid. She lifted a hand to her shoulder and it came away with the tiniest point of red.</p><p>‘Ava…’</p><p>Beatrice’s eyes were wide, horrified.</p><p>‘Mary warned me about waking Lilith,’ Ava said, conversationally. ‘She did <em>not</em> warn me about you.’</p><p>From the kitchen, Mary called, ‘I thought you knew about her knives!’</p><p>That, Ava had to admit, was a good point.</p><p>‘Ava, I am <em>so</em> sorry—’</p><p>Ava cut Beatrice off with a laugh. ‘It’s not a problem.’ She stood, offered Beatrice a hand as the girl unfolded herself from the couch. Beatrice looked from Ava’s hand up to her face and back again. Ava wriggled her fingers. ‘C’mon, I made eggs!’</p><p>The cloud of upset cleared from Beatrice’s face. ‘Ah. My penance.’ Her hand slid into Ava’s.</p><p>Mary laughed. Ava pretended to sulk for a moment, which had nothing to do with the sudden lump in her throat, feeling cool fingers grip hers and a tug as Beatrice stood. Cool fingers slid away all too soon. Ava cleared her throat.</p><p>‘Wow. <em>Wow. </em>Rude.’ She grinned as she shook her head, so Beatrice knew she wasn’t hurt. ‘If it helps, Mary was there the whole time.’</p><p>Beatrice smiled. ‘That does help, actually.’ She tilted her head to the side, regarded Ava curiously. In the dawn light that poured through the window, it seemed like every strand of her hair lit with warm light, and her dark eyes were warm. ‘Did you enjoy it?’</p><p>‘Huh – what?’</p><p>‘Cooking. Did you enjoy it?’</p><p>Ava blinked. <em>Did I enjoy it?</em>  <em>It had been something new, I always like that.</em> ‘I…guess?’ Beatrice didn’t look surprised by Ava’s uncertainty.</p><p>‘Is it something you would choose to do more often?’</p><p>‘Like a hobby?’ Beatrice nodded. ‘I don’t know.’ She faltered for a moment. Her forehead creased as she considered it—<em>Had I enjoyed it just because it was new? Or was it actually fun? Or was it because I was doing it with Mary? </em></p><p>‘When everything settles,’ Beatrice says, and her eyes barely flicker when she pauses to skip over all the things she isn’t saying—who knows when, or where, or who that might be under or alongside?—‘it wouldn’t be a bad idea to try out a few things.’</p><p>‘To see what I’m good at?’</p><p><em>Yes</em>, Beatrice’s head tilt said. She added, ‘And to see what you enjoy.’</p><p>There was a warmth that travelled through Ava at that and it had nothing at all to do with the Halo. She smiled as bright as she could. ‘I’d like that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to try something new.’</p><p>Beatrice frowned, confused, but didn’t stop her as Ava stepped around the couch.</p><p>Lilith wasn’t awful in the mornings. Maybe to Mary, but to Ava she was more of…a challenge. Yeah. That was the word for it.</p><p>Ava got a single moment of surprise on her, sneaking as close as possible before jumping onto the bed and then Lilith had teleported away and, even bleary with sleep she snarled at Ava and leapt, tackling her. Of <em>course</em> Ava’s phasing didn’t work when she needed it most so she fell hard against the floorboards, laughing, with Lilith’s full weight atop her.</p><p>It was with several new and quickly healing cuts and bruises that Ava returned to the kitchen.</p><p>‘We <em>just</em> got you that shirt,’ Mary complained. ‘Can’t go a day without ruining it?’</p><p>‘Hey, that’s Lilith’s fault.’</p><p>‘You started it.’</p><p>‘<em>You started it</em>,’ Ava mimicked with a laugh. ‘Really adult of you, Lilith.’</p><p>‘Enough! Both of you!’ Camila set her hands on her hips and glowered at them just forcefully enough to have them bow their heads a little. ‘Now, Mary and Ava have been kind enough to make us breakfast. We should thank them and God for this meal.’</p><p>‘<em>Ava</em> made this?’ Lilith eyed the eggs with distrust. ‘Don’t subject me to <em>her</em> cooking.’ Lilith didn’t call her names anymore but she threw <em>Ava</em> and <em>her</em> like the rest of her weapons—with laser precision and lethal force.</p><p>‘You don’t have to eat, then,’ Mary told her. She took the hand Camila offered her and clasped Ava’s too.</p><p>The prayer was short and sweet, and the meal short-lived. All of them were starving and they barely paused between bites.</p><p>‘We should get moving,’ Beatrice said when the meal was done.</p><p>‘I’ll do the plates,’ Ava offered.</p><p>‘You cooked,’</p><p>‘And you all know how to pack weapons and whatever. I don’t. Besides, I want to—I’ve never washed a dish before.’ Ava grinned over at her. Her grin faded when Beatrice just stared at her a moment. ‘What? Do I have something in my teeth?’</p><p>‘No. No,’ Beatrice shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. I was just – admiring you. Your outlook,’ she corrected herself quickly. ‘It’s admirable.’ She looked like she wanted to say something more but then simply smiled and turned on her heel, moving into the next room.</p><p>Ava gathered the plates slowly, carrying them to the sink.</p><p>The water was hot and the soap smelled of lemon; the suds grew quickly under the stream of water, billowing up and over the lip of the sink, and there was a new rush in this too, in submerging her hands into the water and feeling the clack of plates and the rasp of the scrubber. Standing in the light that poured through the small kitchen window, Ava listened to the others bustle in the room over, talking quietly with each other, and when words of her dream tried to surface, she forced them down beneath the water in the sink and drowned them, cleaned her hands of them. They wouldn't be killed so easily, he would be back, but it was enough for now.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fiery dawn had taken over, growing into something bigger that reached burning fingers across the sky to pull back the night. Ava stood by the window and watched it happen as the Sisters finished the last of their preparations: Beatrice was two feet and a world away standing at the kitchen counter, checking and double-checking the notes and maps she had made; Mary busied herself checking over her favourite shotgun—at least, Ava <em>heavily </em>suspected she had a favourite—and watching the other women carefully for signs of hurt when they weren’t aware of her searching gaze; Camila pulled her hair back neatly beneath the wide hairband she wore in place of a veil as she rehearsed Lilith’s Italian with her, head tilted as she listened for the faintest hint of mistake. Streaks of orange and pink and red lined the sky by the time Beatrice stepped up to Ava’s side. She looked out the same window; Ava couldn’t help but notice that her eyes dipped low, to the street below them and the empty windows that scored the face of the building opposite.</p>
<p>‘Ready to go?’</p>
<p>‘When you are,’ Ava agreed cheerfully.</p>
<p>Beatrice nodded. Her lips twitched upwards in an effort to meet Ava’s cheer with some of her own. If she didn’t quite succeed, Ava didn’t fault her for that. Tension sat heavy around Beatrice’s temples and forehead like a crown, but when Ava nudged her shoulder and lifted her chin toward the sky, Beatrice followed the action and examined the view.</p>
<p>‘It will be foul weather today for the sky is red,’ Beatrice said quietly. The words weren’t her own; they were reflexive, learned.</p>
<p>Ava rubbed at her eyes. Tried to see in the sky what Beatrice saw, but she didn’t see any storm clouds or danger. Nothing beyond the deep red, but it wasn’t the sky’s fault that it made Ava’s back flare with a familiar ache.</p>
<p>‘Pretty though. Don’t you think?’</p>
<p>Beatrice blinked. Glanced sideways to Ava before she looked again, and then nodded. ‘Very.’</p>
<p>She lingered a moment longer before turning away. Ava and the Sisters convened at the door of the motel room. A moment’s tension came and went, strung out between Lilith and Beatrice like a coiled wire caught before it could crack like a whip.</p>
<p>‘You’re our extraction leader,’ Lilith told Beatrice. ‘This is your mission.’</p>
<p>Beatrice inclined her head the smallest fraction, and Lilith returned the nod before she shifted, falling into place behind Beatrice.</p>
<p>It was natural, and also firmly enforced with an iron grip on her collar, that Ava followed suit and fell into place between the four of them—Beatrice and Lilith leading, Camila and Mary following. Mirror in hand, one of those compacts no one would look at twice, Beatrice swept the hall outside their room. It was short and unimpressive, only four doors staggering off the blue-carpeted hall; seeing that it was also clear of other guests at the early hour, Beatrice waved them out after her. The journey down the staircase was quick and absolutely quiet.</p>
<p>Down in the foyer, Mary fixed the man at the front desk into his seat with a cool look and a stack of notes in hand that even Ava could tell was far too much for the crappy little room they had shared for the night. Mary counted them out one at a time onto his desk. </p>
<p>The man eyed the notes. Swung his boots down from the desk and sat up taller in his chair. They spoke for a moment in low tones before the man—eyes gleaming, bags dark beneath his eyes like bruises—nodded. Reached up for the stack, which Mary released after a moment. He clicked something that buzzed the door of his station and counted the notes like a greedy king, office chair his throne, as Camila let herself back into the room and helped herself to his computer.</p>
<p>With a nod, Camila finished her work.</p>
<p>‘Hey, ladies!’ the man called after them as Camila moved to join the others by the door. Lilith’s hand tensed at her side; Mary grabbed it tight, hid it between them as she turned back to him.</p>
<p>‘What?’</p>
<p>‘Weird shit going on out there. Seems like the whole world’s gone crazy.’ He shook his head, lifted his newspaper to cover his face. Whether it was what Mary had said to him, or his own uncaring or incurious nature, the paper stopped him from getting a good look at their faces. Probably for the best, Ava thought. Bruised, beat to hell and back, exhausted. Civilian clothes or not, even Ava could see Mary’s gun, and the others might not have been visibly armed but they still looked dangerous. ‘Be careful.’</p>
<p>Mary squeezed Lilith’s wrist in a silent <em>See? All good, </em>and nodded, though the man couldn’t see it. ‘’preciate that. Thanks.’</p>
<p>Exiting the motel, they stopped a few streets away to convene with Beatrice’s maps. Ava meant to pay attention but instead she teetered on the edge of the low brick gutter, keeping her balance. Staring up to the sky—and to the roof, and another family of roosting gulls that made her feel a lot of something she was trying valiantly (<em>valiant, </em>she told herself, <em>be valiant, be brave</em>) to ignore—Ava watched a new day spin itself dizzily out overhead. The clouds were impossibly delicate, gauze draped across the bleeding sky and—<em>whoa, nope. Hold up</em>.</p>
<p>Ava shook her head, trying to clear it.</p>
<p>There was a possibility—minor, not very big, maybe slightly pressing for attention—that she was building some mental pathways, connecting everything to a couple of powerful, shocking, mildly traumatic things. Blood, violence, whatever. But just because she knew what was happening—or suspected, rather, since she wasn’t a doctor or a shrink after all—and why it was happening—<em>probably</em> the murdering and the bloodshed and the Halo-embedded generational trauma, or else years of watching television had finally caught up with her—it didn’t stop the connections from bleeding over. <em>Ha!</em> There it was again. Blood, blood, blood. She was totally okay and not at all having a breakdown.</p>
<p><em>I should probably talk to Mary</em>, Ava mused. One of the gulls unfurled a wing, scratched at the plumage with its beak.</p>
<p>She couldn’t do that. She shouldn’t. It had been <em>maybe </em>an hour since Mary had made that offer and since Ava shot her down—had <em>insisted</em> on not talking. It really wasn’t the image that Ava wanted to make for herself, to go back on that within the hour—inconsistent Ava, the flighty Ava they’re all still so worried that she is, the girl who changes her mind all the time. But, well. It seemed to be happening a lot anyway, so maybe it was less of an image that she was making and…more of an actual, fully realised personality trait. One that she was liking less and less the more it cropped up.</p>
<p><em>Insignificant Ava, lonely Ava, fragile Ava, </em>a serpent’s voice hissed, so quietly Ava hardly realised what she was hearing, eyes lifted to the painted clouds. The voice had hidden itself in the far back of her mind, safe from the brilliant morning sun, and it sent a shiver through her. Not only the memory of the dream, and the cold echo of Adriel’s touch drifting down between her shoulder blades, but watching morning follow hot on dawn's heels, rising bright and hot and reflected in every car door and gleaming door knob and window. And the shadows only slunk to the side. They didn’t disappear at all. </p>
<p><em>Was it possible to defeat Adriel?</em> Ava rolled her shoulders back, chasing out the itch. What if Adriel was something else entirely, something way beyond an accidental halo-bearer, what if she didn’t have <em>inherent abilities to amplify</em> or whatever the surprisingly Not Villain Mother Superion had said? What if, even if she did stay and fight and <em>try—</em>what if she tried and just...burned out completely and all the shadows waiting on the wings washed right back in?</p>
<p>‘Ava?’</p>
<p>‘Huh?’ Ava shook her head, clearing the maudlin thoughts from it like cobwebs from the corner of the ceiling. ‘That’s me,’ she agreed cheerfully, smiling wide as she could and hiking her thumbs toward her chest.</p>
<p>Beatrice smiled obligingly. ‘We’re ready to head out. Are you?’</p>
<p>She hitched her tactical bag higher on her shoulder as she said it. The bag was big in the way that all military gear seemed to be, at least the stuff that Ava had seen; bulky pockets, a gritty kind of fabric that made it seem larger, sturdier, reluctant to fold between Ava’s hands. A thick strap crossed over Beatrice from shoulder to hip that was hard to cut through. Ava knew. She’d tried it. Curiosity. It looked a little out of place on a seemingly ordinary and average young woman. </p>
<p>Seemingly, because Beatrice was anything but. </p>
<p>Seemingly, because they had agreed to remain in their civilian clothes.</p>
<p>Ava’s bright comment of ‘Normal clothes for me’ had been ignored, as had her next, muttered comment of ‘Or are they civilian clothes for me too? I kinda only ever wore hospital clothes… Huh.’</p>
<p>Seeing the Sisters in their civilian clothes had taught Ava several things in quick succession. Two things about the others, one about herself.</p>
<p>First, someone in their group had a really good eye. Not for style—maybe they did, maybe not, but the selection at the charity store had been limited and they <em>were</em> trying to not be noticed—but for sizing. Everything that had been handed to Ava fit well, leaning looser than snug. <em>Smalls included</em>. And, looking around at the others, Ava saw they all looked comfortable in what had been grabbed for them.</p>
<p>Second, Beatrice—in jeans and a denim jacket—could <em>really </em>pull off double denim. Like. <em>Hello</em>. And also <em>damn</em>.</p>
<p>And third, about Ava herself. She had begun to think that Mary might be right, which she would never say to her face for obvious gloating reasons—and the questions that would inevitably follow. But the thing was...there were some hormones. A lot of them, actually. Ava wasn’t embarrassed or confused about them, necessarily, but they were <em>new</em>. She didn’t dare think about them—not right now, not with her current company—but she could feel them and there was a sweetness to it, a relief, that the fluttering of nerves was coming from something good.  </p>
<p>‘Ava?’ Beatrice asked again.</p>
<p>‘Huh? Yes, right. Heading out?’</p>
<p>‘To the tunnels.’</p>
<p>‘Tunnels?’</p>
<p>Beatrice’s smile turned sliver thin, eyes narrowed. ‘Did you hear what we were talking about? Were you listening?’ she asked, taking a step forward. Though it would be so easy to take her words as anger or frustration—and Ava’s mind was prepared, sprinting through the fifteen stages of grief at pissing off yet <em>another </em>person—Ava didn’t feel it. ‘Are you alright? Are you in pain?’</p>
<p>‘Uh, no,’ Ava laughed. ‘I can heal, remember?’</p>
<p>She was the only one who could. Her eyes dropped to Beatrice’s jaw; the bruise was the same mottled purple-green it had been early that morning, though the shadows that hid there disguised the worst of it, made it more of a smudge. </p>
<p>Beatrice hummed. She stepped forward again until she was within reach and lifted her hand. Her fingertips pressed to Ava’s elbow; it was a fleeting touch, a single burning point of contact, there and then gone.</p>
<p>‘Alright,’ Beatrice said, obligingly again. Her eyes were narrowed still but the last remnants of pink dawn blushed across her cheeks and Ava suspected the look of faint suspicion had more to do with light shining directly into her eyeballs than any annoyance with her.</p>
<p>She hoped it did. It was a small hope, and maybe a silly one, but she was working up to some bigger ones.</p>
<p>Beatrice looked like she was about to speak, then stopped. ‘Alright,’ she said, a third time. ‘In brief, then.’</p>
<p>‘Yes. Please.’</p>
<p>‘We are going down into the tunnels to…leave the Vatican.’</p>
<p>Beatrice said it delicately but Ava had been front and centre when Beatrice talked about getting <em>into </em>the Vatican and she had said the words <em>our entry </em>and <em>opening the door</em>—two phrases that had turned out to mean <em>explosives</em>—in the same way she said <em>leave</em>, which Ava translated mentally into <em>escape</em>.</p>
<p>She made a minor scene looking over the other girl, and her bag, before she looked questioningly to Beatrice.</p>
<p>‘What?’</p>
<p>‘This plan doesn’t involve more explosives, does it?’ She had to make sure. She had to.</p>
<p>Beatrice’s smile was sudden and sunny. ‘No.’</p>
<p>‘Good, good. I just had to…’ Ava paused long enough for Beatrice to tense, braced for the pun to follow. ‘<em>See for </em>myself.’</p>
<p>The groan it earned her was a precious prize indeed. Ava rocked forward on her toes, the movement bringing her close to Beatrice, close enough to return the fleeting touch that had been bestowed on her. She took Beatrice’s hand and squeezed it quickly, dropping it just as fast, and moved past her to join the others.</p>
<p>Looking back over her shoulder as she stepped into place next to Mary, she saw Beatrice—cast still as a statue in that single moment, rose-dawn light streaming past her, lighting her up with a hallowed nimbus—and saw the fingers of that hand curl up toward her palm like she was trying to hold onto something. That hand flexed, and then Beatrice was striding to the front of their group and leading them on.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The entrance to the tunnels below was a low shadowed archway, and the stone ramp, damp underfoot, put Ava in mind of a grey tongue laid out patiently for them. The dark swallowed them one by one; Beatrice, Mary, Lilith had no hesitation. </p>
<p>Ava hovered at the border. A gentle hand came to rest comfortably on her spine; Ava glanced sideways to Camila, who smiled. </p>
<p>‘Ready?’</p>
<p><em>Am I the only one who sees a monster's mouth? </em>she thought. ‘Ready,’ she said, and stepped in.</p>
<p>Not far inside, waiting for them, Lilith had lit an honest-to-god lantern instead of a flashlight. <em>Maybe she’s big on the aesthetics</em>, Ava considered, making herself laugh at the idea of the chronically serious Sister caring one bit for something like that.</p>
<p>‘What?’ Lilith demanded, eyeing her suspiciously.</p>
<p>Ava shook her head. ‘It wasn’t funny,’ she explained, trying to suppress the laughter but helpless when it bubbled again in her chest.</p>
<p>‘I don’t doubt <em>that.</em>’ Lilith made a flat sound, then shook her head. ‘Try not to get lost. The others seem to think we need you, for some reason.’</p>
<p>That put a sour end to Ava’s laughter. The bubbling became boiling became churning and Ava swallowed hard, stuck her smile in place. </p>
<p>‘So, no phasing through the walls?’</p>
<p>‘Absolutely not.’ The harsh tone came from Beatrice, eyes lifted from her tablet enough to pin Ava in place. </p>
<p>‘Just joking. Sticking with the team, promise.’</p>
<p>Beatrice glared—fully <em>glared</em>—a moment longer before she turned her attention to the staircase in front of them and began to descend.</p>
<p>They followed.</p>
<p>‘How long are we gonna be under here?’</p>
<p>‘The path I charted is about five kilometres. So, God willing, not quite an hour.’</p>
<p>‘An <em>hour</em>?’</p>
<p>‘It’s a unit of time measuring sixty minutes,’ Lilith told her.</p>
<p>‘You’re a unit of time measuring sixty minutes,’ Ava grumbled. </p>
<p>From ahead of them both, Mary called back, ‘Not your best, Ava.’</p>
<p>‘I’m tired.’</p>
<p>‘We’re all tired. Sorry our escape plan isn’t <em>comfortable </em>and <em>convenient </em>for you.’</p>
<p>‘I wasn’t complaining!’</p>
<p>‘It certainly sounded like you were.’</p>
<p>‘You’re the one hearing things,’ Ava snapped, heated. Instantly, she knew it had been unkind. Even in the near-complete dark, she knew Lilith had flinched.</p>
<p>‘Hey!’ Mary started.</p>
<p>Lilith cut her off. ‘And you’re the reason we’re in this mess to begin with! If you’d had the decency to stay dead, <em>none </em>of this would have happened.’</p>
<p>Distantly, Ava heard someone’s aghast ‘<em>Lilith</em>’ but it didn’t quite reach her. Couldn’t hear it past the rushing sound in her ears, like the heavy traffic that had streamed past the orphanage. Ava knew was her own pulse, familiar with the sound of it pressed into her skull by feet of heavy concrete all around her. Deafened by it, and with nerves raw, stomach rolling, dark suffocatingly close around her, Ava very nearly listened to the voice that urged her to lash out.</p>
<p>
  <em>Strike. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Hurt. </em>
</p>
<p>She’d had the thoughts before, but this was the first time her limbs could respond. Her arms lifted—she <em>raised </em>her arms, hands curled into fists—and Ava’s stomach dropped, sickeningly.</p>
<p>
  <em>No.</em>
</p>
<p>She laughed instead. ‘Remind me not to pick a fight with you. Ouch.’</p>
<p>A moment passed. Then Lilith said, slowly but not begrudgingly, ‘I apologise. That was unkind.’</p>
<p>Ava didn’t say anything to that. </p>
<p>They continued down, passing quietly by an unmarked door. ‘Maintenance,’ Beatrice whispered when they were past it. ‘Nearly there.’</p>
<p>The stairs brought them down into the tunnels proper and within three steps Ava knew all she needed and wanted to know about them. The tunnels were: wet, cramped, and very clearly actively hostile to a small hit squad of highly trained nuns (plus a bumbling chosen one slash civilian) taking a peaceful jaunt through them. The tunnels split into half a dozen paths at every intersection, which seemed unnecessary to Ava, and folded back on themselves until they would have been thoroughly lost without Beatrice’s extensive map (possibly stolen? From Schafer? Ava didn’t ask, in case the asking was what made it a whole thing for the Sister’s vows).</p>
<p>In Lilith’s lantern light, she could see that the walls were once-red brick—now brown—and patterned. Two rows of black bricks, which had not faded so much as the red, striped the walls – one at waist height, upon which the infrequent directions, and yet more infrequent graffiti, were scrawled. The other was at the floor, where the flagstones of the path met the brickwork of the wall. The ceiling was low, Lilith having to walk stooped, but Ava could see that it was also pretty and vaulted, which seemed unnecessary, what with the fact that the tunnels were buried three, four levels under the ground.</p>
<p>The tunnels, honestly? Weren’t so bad. Except that her third step brought her into a surprising heat, and the smell – what had been faint and musty – hit her fully.</p>
<p>At the edge of the narrow pathway they were to walk, the floor dropped sharply away into a wide channel that carried with it what had to be all the waste of the Vatican, according to Ava’s nose.</p>
<p>‘So, did I –’ Ava began. She stopped. Gagged. Hiked up the collar of her t-shirt to cover her nose. The fabric did little to muffle her voice, or the smell. ‘Oh god, I think I can taste it – Did I – I <em>got </em>the part about going into the tunnels and all that, but did I <em>miss</em> the part where you told me the “tunnels” were actually not old and forgotten but the still fully in-use <em>sewers</em>?’</p>
<p>‘Yes.’</p>
<p>‘And then you <em>conveniently</em> left it out in your brief brief?’</p>
<p>From her place at the front of the line, Beatrice twisted to look back at Ava. Her face was lit from underneath by the faint glow of her tablet. Most of it was taken up by dark blueprints that spiderwebbed across the screen; there was still enough light for Ava to see that Beatrice was wearing her serious face.</p>
<p>‘I did,’ Beatrice confirmed.</p>
<p>‘Wow. <em>Wow</em>.’</p>
<p>‘You would’ve known if you’d listened in the first place,’ Lilith pointed out.</p>
<p>Ava couldn’t disagree with that, so she didn’t. She leaned carefully sideways, toward the channel, and looked down into it, pinching her nose.</p>
<p>‘For such holy people, they still shit like the rest of us sinners.’ Lilith shot her a quelling look. Ava ignored it. ‘Like, I dunno. I figured they’d have to shit gold. Or roses. Or jewels. Mm, no, that would hurt, I take that one back. But that’s the only reason I can think of for them to think they’re better than the rest of us. None of them even have a <em>halo</em>. Okay, to be fair, I’m totally going on Duretti alone as what all the rest of them are like, but he’s the Pope now, so it’s got to be a pretty fair assumption, right?’ Ava rambled with a laugh that came out less incredibly nervous than she’d been expecting it to. She continued, faux thoughtful, ‘I guess everyone pees gold, unless there’s something wrong with your kidneys.’</p>
<p>‘Are you <em>quite </em>done?’</p>
<p>‘Do you think there’s a rush down here after morning Mass? No, wait, lots of them are old dudes, right? They must have to go <em>all</em> the time. Prostate problems.’</p>
<p>There was a moment of tense silence.</p>
<p>‘I’m done now,’ Ava announced. ‘Got it all <em>out of my system</em>.’</p>
<p>‘Thank God for small mercies.’</p>
<p>‘I think that was another one of her jokes.’</p>
<p>‘I was ignoring it,’ Lilith told Mary through gritted teeth.</p>
<p>‘So,’</p>
<p>‘Spoke too soon,’ Mary shot back to Lilith.</p>
<p>Ava couldn’t see Lilith’s face, following as she was, but the force of her rolling her eyes could be felt. ‘How come we’re down <em>here</em>?’ Ava asked.</p>
<p>‘What part of <em>escape the Vatican</em> doesn’t make sense to you?’</p>
<p>‘I get <em>that. </em>I just mean – why the tunnels? How come we can’t drive? That’s how we got in.’</p>
<p>‘The roads have all been shut down,’ Beatrice interjected. ‘What happened last night… It’s been labelled as an attack.’</p>
<p>‘No other way to spin it. The Vatican <em>exploded</em>,’</p>
<p>‘Imploded,’ Ava correctly Mary. ‘Technically.’</p>
<p>‘Oh, <em>someone</em> listened to the explosives lessons.’</p>
<p>‘<em>Extremely closely</em>. I’m fond of my fingers.’</p>
<p>Mary snorted.</p>
<p>Beatrice continued as if she had never been interrupted. ‘The Swiss Guard mobilised to shut down the roads, the gates. The <em>polizia</em> have done the same on Rome’s side of the border and a little further out. Our options were limited.’</p>
<p>Mary picked up where Beatrice left off, nodding. ‘We could either have risked hiding out in the city we had a hand in blowing up – ’</p>
<p>‘Just a hand?’</p>
<p>‘ – and get arrested in a few days when the motel clerk mentioned a gang of bloody women covered in stone dust hauling big ass bags and guns into the room they rented. <em>Or</em>,’</p>
<p>‘Sewers,’ Ava finished for her.</p>
<p>Mary nodded. ‘Sewers.’</p>
<p>‘Just a typical Wednesday,’ Ava said after a moment, and smiled when Mary laughed.</p>
<p>The trek fell back into what Ava might call companionable silence, if she were being hopeful, and relieved silence, if she were being honest. Especially from Lilith. That didn’t really daunt her. Ava had lived most of her life in hateful silence so this was a step up of about a billion degrees. She enjoyed it, even. Took the time she had before the push of the Halo had her buzzing with energy again—which would inevitably translate into running her mouth—to look over the sisters.</p>
<p>Beatrice was leading them, of course, tablet in hand. Ava grinned to herself, thinking of Beatrice in an old timey gown and beard, bearing a stone tablet. She shook the image from her mind. Behind her, following close, was Mary. She double-checked the map whenever they came to a forking passage. Lilith walked between Ava and Mary—she had either retreated behind her ‘I’m better than you’ face or else the smell was getting to her, lending her a pinched, disapproving look. Ava selfishly hoped it was the latter. Not because she didn’t want to be the only one suffering but because she hoped they’d moved past the whole superiority complex.</p>
<p><em>Maybe,</em> Ava thought before she could stop herself, <em>Lilith needed it after what had happened to her.</em> After what she’d said outside of the tomb when she had tried to stop Ava from going in. After collapsing into Mary’s arms, desperation in every trembling inch of her body.</p>
<p>Ava’s steps faltered as she stared at Lilith’s back.</p>
<p>She remembered – couldn’t<em> stop</em> herself from remembering, images flashing in front of her eyes the second her thoughts brushed against the related memories – Lilith grabbing at her. Stopping her, right on the cusp of the tomb. Caustic guilt dripped down Ava’s throat, remembering the <em>relief</em> that had filled her when Lilith had stopped her from sinking into the stone. It twisted in her again now; Ava lifted a hand to her nose and mouth and swallowed once, twice hard as she fought the retching, wretched feeling. She could pretend it was the stench, though it wasn’t terribly strong anymore. She could pretend she wasn’t running. <em>She wasn’t running</em>. She was just hoping that she wouldn’t have to phase through <em>these</em> walls, that was all.</p>
<p>What if the stink went with her? Did dirt move with her when she travelled through things? She ought to experiment with it—maybe, she thought, following the careless thoughts as far as they would carry her away from the sickening guilt, maybe she would never have to shower again. The thought came with mixed feelings; it almost wasn’t worth the effort to shower, when they were never as amazing as her first.</p>
<p>Oh, she had been spoiled <em>rotten</em> with that shower, Ava realised with a sigh.</p>
<p>‘Everything alright?’</p>
<p>Ava twisted to look back at Camila, who was bringing up the rear, stood directly behind her.</p>
<p>‘Yeah. Just the smell,’ she lied. Well. Not <em>lied</em>. It was true. Mostly.</p>
<p>Camila nodded. ‘Awful, isn’t it?’ she whispered. Her eyes flicked over Ava’s shoulder to the other sisters, checking to see if they had heard her.</p>
<p>In an instant, Ava became infinitely more fond of Camila. It wasn’t just the fact that she had unhesitatingly believed Ava’s lie. It was also the fact that she had found herself a comrade in arms. A kindred spirit. Another anti-being-in-the-sewer warrior. She was seeing Camila in a new and somewhat murky light and she liked what she saw.</p>
<p>Hm. That sounded wrong.</p>
<p>Ava had always liked Camila. Camila was bright as day, and kind, and really good with music, and she was all of the things that a Sister of the OCS was supposed to be. But…she was also <em>all of the things that a Sister of the OCS was supposed to be.</em> And Ava didn’t really like nuns. These new ones had a few things going for them. The old ones…eh. Hard pass.</p>
<p>But <em>this</em> Camila? The girl, the person who she was starting to know, not just another nun in the habit of taking self-inflicted vows of servitude out on others?</p>
<p><em>This</em> Camila, Ava <em>adores</em>.</p>
<p>She caught Camila’s elbow when the other girl slipped on a dollop of slime, took her pinwheeling arm on one shoulder, and the scrambling grip across her back good-naturedly.</p>
<p>'Oh <em>shit</em>!'</p>
<p>'There's a lot of it,' Ava agreed, laughed quietly at her own joke.</p>
<p>'<em>Language</em>, Ava,' Lilith called from ahead. Her words echoed against the crumbling brick and sounded less than stern. Almost amused. Not with Ava, never with Ava. But with her own joke.</p>
<p>'Right. House of worship, sorry.' The comment earned her a venomous glare, but Ava wasn’t bothered. She’d had worse at eight. Those exact words were on the tip of her tongue but she bit them back. It would just provoke Lilith. <em>And I’m not super fond of what Lilith is capable of with proper motivation. </em></p>
<p>Camila looked miserably toward her. 'I am <em>so</em> sorry,’ she whispered. Patted Ava’s shoulder.</p>
<p>Ava scoffed, grinned. 'Happy to take one for the team. Besides - irritating Lilith is basically my job now.'</p>
<p>'I don't think it is.'</p>
<p>'Mm, no, I'm pretty sure I signed something about that.'</p>
<p>Camila shook her head. Smiled a smile that looked, in the murky light, more like a grimace. Ava tilted her head to get a better look at her and could confirm – definitely a grimace. As well as the grimace, Camila’s forehead and jaw were tense. One hand closed, white-knuckled, around the hilt of one of her blades; the other scratched at the exposed part of her wrist between glove and sleeve. Her breathing was shallow—<em>could be because of the smell,</em> Ava considered, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.</p>
<p>When Camila stopped still after a few more steps, Ava stopped with her.</p>
<p>‘Camila? Are you okay?’</p>
<p>‘I stepped in something,’ Camila whispered, eyes fixed firmly ahead.</p>
<p>‘Oh. Do you want me to look and – ’</p>
<p>‘No.’</p>
<p>‘Okay.’</p>
<p>‘I would like to pretend it didn’t happen.’</p>
<p>‘Okay.’</p>
<p>A moment passed, Camila worrying at her lower lip, and then she asked, all in a rush, ‘Is it bad?’</p>
<p>It occurred to Ava that she didn’t know how old Camila was. Or, how young. She had assumed that all the Sisters were older than her, but maybe that wasn’t the case. In the moment, Camila sounded an awful lot like Diego—<em>Diego</em>, Ava’s heart echoed with a painful thump, stamping his name against the red insides of her ribs—young and almost…whining.</p>
<p>Ava risked a glance down.</p>
<p>Ava’s own boots were ruined. Honestly, they would probably be fine after a really good clean but mentally? Knowing what she knew about where they had been? Ruined. <em>Rest in fucking pieces</em>. Maybe she could get Beatrice to blow them up for her.</p>
<p>And Camila’s boots? Camila’s were…</p>
<p>‘Um.’</p>
<p>‘Oh no.’</p>
<p>‘Well,’</p>
<p>‘Don’t tell me.’</p>
<p>‘Oh. Okay.’</p>
<p>‘Tell me,’ Camila demanded a split-second later. ‘Is it bad? What is it?’</p>
<p>Before she could change her mind, Ava told her, ‘I think it’s a hairball.’ She laughed when Camila squealed and kicked out, sending <em>whatever </em>it was—Ava <em>hoped</em> it was a hairball and not something alive that had hair—to the other wall of the tunnel, where it hit against the brickwork with a dull, wet <em>smack</em>.</p>
<p>‘Ew, ew, <em>ew</em>!’</p>
<p>‘<em>Camila</em>!’</p>
<p>‘Sorry! Sorry, Sister!’ Camila panted, holding up a hand to beg a moment from Beatrice, who had stopped the others.</p>
<p>In the dark, with only a single lantern between them, and with the distance, Ava didn’t think that the Sisters could see all the way back to them. Certainly no more than their outlines. But standing right beside Camila, Ava could see enough. Camila’s eyes were wide and dark, her face pale beneath her cap; Ava knew again that it was more than just disgust.</p>
<p>But fear? Was that<em> possible</em>?</p>
<p>Ava knew, had known for some time, that the Sisters weren’t fearless. They had never presented themselves as fearless. Not in so many words. It was just that their levels of what was and wasn’t scary were <em>wildly </em>skewed from normal people. They threw themselves into battle and fought demons and threw sharp knives like it was nothing, and Ava would say that ordinarily those had to be amongst the top ten fears of the general populace. Top five, maybe. If everyone still lived in a world with demons and where they could throw knives.</p>
<p><em>Well. People </em>could <em>throw knives, if they wanted. And technically</em>, Ava realised, <em>everyone </em>did <em>live in a world with demons. They just…didn’t know it. Cheery thought. </em></p>
<p>Regardless, Ava was fairly sure that the things the Sisters did on the daily were a hell of a lot scarier than anything the typical person did—and though she hadn’t ever thought about it, it would make sense that the Sisters fears would reflect that. Were they afraid of dying? Of being hurt? Ava hadn’t seen any indication of that. The only fear she truly knew of—probably, almost definitely—belonged to Beatrice. Fear of the same kind that Sister Melanie had carried with her. A different kind of battle.</p>
<p>But Camila? Who looked so suddenly young and small to Ava’s eyes? Was she afraid right now?</p>
<p>There was the smallest shift in Ava’s back. A kind of a whirring, which wasn’t right at all, but if she thought of it as an alien machine then it was the closest description she had. A whirring, a fluttering of energy.</p>
<p>Ava stepped forward. She had been intending to already, but no part of her was certain whether the actual step had come from her own intention or from the Halo. <em>Think about that later. Think about that later. Camila needs…my help? Maybe?</em> Tucking her crisis deep down where she could panic about it at a later date, Ava patted Camila’s back.</p>
<p>‘<em>Great</em> shot. Twenty points.’</p>
<p>‘Just twenty?’ Camila joked. Her voice was mostly steady.</p>
<p>‘Yeah, sorry. Point deduction for your finishing pose. You <em>really</em> have to stick that shape at the end – hold it for a full two seconds before you let it drop, otherwise the judges have no choice but to deduct points.’ Camila looked a little dazed by the rambling. Ava told her, a little self-conscious, ‘I watched a<em> lot</em> of the Olympics. D– My roommate liked sports.’</p>
<p>‘Huh.’</p>
<p>‘Catch up, you two!’ Mary called.</p>
<p>Ava’s hand, still on Camila’s back, pressed gently. Her friend trembled for a moment—Ava felt it shiver down her wrist and into her own body and the Halo… There were no right words for what it did. Came alive, woke up, <em>warmed</em>. Not to add strength to Ava’s push but for a different reason Ava couldn’t quite place. Following instinct—<em>hers? The Halo’s?—</em>she eased her push, turned it into a consoling rub, which made Camila tremble even more.</p>
<p>Lips were pressed into a flat line, the corners white with pressure, Camila turned dark eyes on Ava. ‘Can I tell you something?’ she whispered. She managed to do it in a way that didn’t echo.</p>
<p>Ava wasn’t sure if she could do the same, so she just nodded instead.</p>
<p>Camila closed her eyes. Swallowed. ‘I’m scared.’</p>
<p>
  <em>Ha! I was right! Right—about an upsetting thing. Not the time to gloat, Ava—be comforting!</em>
</p>
<p>Ava rubbed Camila’s back like she had seen it done on TV, a big loop from one shoulder to the other. She nodded again. Encouraging, she hoped.</p>
<p>‘I don’t – it’s the <em>tunnel</em>,’ Camila continued, tripping over her words. Not from eagerness this time. ‘I don’t – It feels like I’m – I don’t <em>like </em>them.’</p>
<p>‘I get it.’</p>
<p>‘And it’s not that I’m <em>not</em> going to do it. Keep walking, I mean. I am. I <em>can </em>do it. I <em>trained</em> so that I can do things like this. Face my fears. Be brave,’ she told Ava, very firmly. She tried to take a deep breath then, to settle her nerves, obviously forgetting where they were. She coughed, nose wrinkled.</p>
<p>Ava stepped closer. She was sure that the others were watching, but whatever. Turning Camila’s face into her shoulder so that she would breathe only the scent of cheap motel shampoo, Ava felt Camila do exactly that, clutching at the fabric of her shirt.</p>
<p>‘I can do this,’ she whispered. ‘I can do this. I <em>can </em>do this.’</p>
<p>Ava hesitated. She had never done this before but she had wanted it enough to know.  Reassurance would be good right about now. She patted Camila’s shoulder again. Was she supposed to be doing something more? <em>Anything </em>more? She felt like she ought to be helping somehow, and instead she was just <em>standing </em>here. She searched for the right words, settling on,</p>
<p>‘I’ll be right here the whole time.’</p>
<p>Looking over Camila’s head, Ava could see that the other three were standing not far from them; she could also see that they were watching, as she had suspected. Mary gestured toward Camila, pulled a face. Ava – careful not to let Camila feel it – made a complicated and unhelpful gesture, which meant nothing because she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be telling them.</p>
<p>Mary gestured back. Unmistakably, <em>What? </em></p>
<p>Ava put up her middle finger. Then waved them away.</p>
<p>After a moment’s conference, the three slunk back into the shadows and turned the corner.</p>
<p>Ava patted Camila and hoped she hadn’t noticed any of that. It was possible she hadn’t, head buried hidden against her neck. ‘Um. It’s okay, you know. That you’re scared. Everyone gets scared,’ she told Camila, and made a face. Why did it sound stupid when she said it? <em>Everyone gets scared</em>? Camila wasn’t four years old. Jesus. ‘I’ll be right here,’ she said again, which felt better.</p>
<p>‘Promise?’</p>
<p>‘Promise.’</p>
<p>Camila’s sigh poured out between them and Ava held her tight, kept it between them. It felt like a big moment, like something precious she ought to hold onto, keep safe.</p>
<p>Eventually, Camila stepped back. She looked down the corridor, which was conspicuously empty. ‘Did they see me?’ Ava hesitated, which was evidence enough. Camila’s cheeks burned with colour. ‘<em>Great</em>. I didn’t want them to <em>see</em> me like that.’</p>
<p>Ava yanked her hand back. ‘I’m sorry, Camila, I just,’</p>
<p>Camila lifted a hand to cover her mouth. Over it, her eyes were wide with apology. ‘No. No, <em>I’m</em> sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. I just… I’m the newest, you know? I don’t want them to see me like that.’</p>
<p>Ava could see the struggle plain on Camila’s face; the need for comfort warring with what pride her vows couldn’t lift from her. The words Ava spoke next came from the same deep, powerful place as before; her heart thumped twice, hard—<em>Diego. Camila</em>—and she spoke before thinking, as usual.</p>
<p>‘I could carry you.’</p>
<p>Camila’s jaw dropped slightly. It closed quickly. This place did not smell good and it tasted worse.</p>
<p>‘What?’ she asked, incredulous.</p>
<p>‘I could. You guys have carried me, like, five times –‘</p>
<p>‘Three.’</p>
<p>‘My <em>point</em> being… It could be my turn now. I could carry you. If that was something you wanted.’ Ava tried not to fidget under Camila’s stare but it was hard. Was it strange? The offer? She only wanted to help and if Camila couldn’t force herself to walk forward… ‘I know you’re still hurt from yesterday. All of you are. But I’m not. And - I know I haven’t been around them as long as you have but I don’t think any of them would think less of you for being scared. But if you don’t want them to know, you could tell them that. That you’re hurt, rolled your ankle or whatever, and I’m helping.’</p>
<p>‘Shouldn’t I be able to do it myself?’</p>
<p>‘The Halo helps me walk. I can’t do that by myself.’</p>
<p>‘That’s different.’</p>
<p>‘Is it?’ Ava wasn’t sure. On the one hand, it was totally different. On the other hand, she wondered if it mattered if it were different. She wondered if it actually mattered if Camila walked by herself or if she took help. Her head hurt. ‘I couldn’t make it through that wall without Beatrice. Maybe this is your wall, and you need a friend to walk with you.’</p>
<p>‘Beatrice didn’t carry you,’ Camila pointed out.</p>
<p>Ava willed herself not to flush at the idea. She remembered Beatrice, hand warm in her own. She remembered Beatrice, slim and strong, hauling her arm up and over her shoulder. The memories were fondly kept and tucked away to be examined in every spare moment she had, even if she had just had her nose broken and been shot at the time, respectively.</p>
<p>‘Well.’ Beatrice, pressed up against her, arm around her waist. Beatrice, with her hands cradling Ava’s face like she was something <em>precious, </em>looking at her like she was a goddamn miracle, <em>miraculous. </em>Ava licked her lips. She re-focused. ‘No, she didn’t. But either I carry you or I hold your hand, and we walk really <em>really </em>slowly, and it’ll take way longer than an hour.’</p>
<p>‘Those are my only two options?’</p>
<p>‘Lilith could knock you out and carry you,’ Ava suggested cheerfully.</p>
<p>Camila swallowed. ‘Oh. No.’</p>
<p>‘No,’ Ava agreed.</p>
<p>‘Okay.’</p>
<p>After a moment of negotiation, Ava crouched – not a lot, being short even against Camila – and then Camila hopped up onto her back and…it was easy to carry her, actually. She wasn’t superhuman but she was <em>strong</em> and Camila weighed next to nothing. Ava hitched her a little higher and began to walk the path. Camila held herself rigid for only a moment before she dropped her chin down onto Ava’s shoulder; Ava thought perhaps that she had her eyes closed.</p>
<p>Ava was focused on not slipping on the slick bricks—and thinking about anything <em>but </em>what might be covering the bricks—but she paid careful attention to Camila, whose breathing was shallow and careful over her shoulder. She turned the corner with her and there was a low bob of light from further ahead. It wasn’t quite enough to risk losing them, but far enough that Camila could pretend the others hadn’t—and couldn’t—see her with Ava. The light was held steady. <em>Probably Beatrice still. Beatrice had remarkable hands. Remarkably </em>steady <em>hands. Pretty hands. Pretty </em>steady<em> hands! Fuck. </em>Shaking <em>those </em>thoughts out of her head, Ava made her way toward the light picking over the sections of what she had decided was moss.</p>
<p>‘Camila?’</p>
<p>‘Mm.’</p>
<p>‘I just wanted to say… You don’t have to tell me. What you’re scared of. But for what it’s worth…I get being scared.’ <em>The bed. Francis. Endless cold, endless dark. Diego. The bed, the roof, the muted light. No Francis. No Diego. No one. </em>Ava cleared her throat. ‘A lot of people let fear stop them from doing things and – you only stopped for a second. Just a breather, really. I admire that, I do.’</p>
<p>Camila’s arms tightened a little around Ava’s shoulders. She didn’t reply.</p>
<p>‘Do the others know wh– ’</p>
<p>‘No.’</p>
<p>‘Should they?’</p>
<p>‘<em>No</em>. I’m <em>fine</em>,’ Camila snapped. Then, arms loosening, ‘Sorry. But – please, don’t tell them. It’s bad enough they saw me…’</p>
<p>‘I don’t think they saw anything,’ Ava lied cheerfully.</p>
<p>Camila ignored it, other than a light squeeze of a hug. Miserably, quietly, ‘I don’t want them to know.’</p>
<p>‘Okay. It’s totally your thing to tell, if you want to tell them. I just wanted to say, I think it’s really brave. And thanks for telling me, even if it’s just because I’m way more scared about everything than you are,’ she said with a little laugh, and a bounce to pull Camila higher again on her back. She half-choked when Camila’s arms tightened around her neck. ‘Cam – neck – ’</p>
<p>‘Ava, that’s <em>not</em> why I told you.’</p>
<p>‘Not – breathing – ’</p>
<p>‘I told you because I <em>trust</em> you.’</p>
<p>‘…Oh.’</p>
<p>A rush surged through Ava from the top of her suddenly prickling scalp to the soles of her feet. She felt every place where she was touching Camila with a sudden clarity, a sudden connection, feeling herself as no more than skin and flesh and bones and Camila exactly <em>exactly </em>the same – bony knees pressing to her hips, her hands under Camila’s knees, the temple leaned against her cheek as Camila rested against her, the thud of a distant heartbeat mirroring Ava’s own. She was the same, and different, and a <em>person</em> and that <em>meant something</em> that Ava couldn’t quite get her head around but felt powerfully, felt just about ready to topple over with the force behind it. And all too soon—or just in the nick of time before she was about to <em>explode</em> with it—the feeling was gone and Ava was herself again and the feeling had taken everything with it except for a dull ache behind her eyes and the bruised clench of her heart, as though titan fondness for this girl on her back had reached right into her chest and gripped it tight for an instant before letting it go.</p>
<p>And, because that was a <em>lot</em>, and because only Mary and Beatrice had seen her make this joke –and Ava wasn’t in the habit of wasting top tier jokes – Ava turned, spun herself and Camila, to look exaggeratedly about herself as though looking for someone else Camila might have been talking to.</p>
<p>Camila laughed, slapped her shoulder. ‘Yes, <em>you</em>, Ava.’</p>
<p>‘Just checking.’ Ava pressed on Camila’s legs, a faint hug of her own. They walked on. ‘Can I ask – is it the tunnels? Claustrophobia or something?’ She leaned her head against Camila’s when the other girl dropped her chin a little heavier onto her shoulder.</p>
<p>‘No. Nothing like that. It’s silly, really.’</p>
<p>‘Not if you’re freaked out by it.’</p>
<p>Camila was quiet for a moment. Then, very quietly, she began to speak. Her mouth was right next to Ava’s ear and Ava still had to strain to hear her.  ‘I wasn’t always…<em>scared</em> like this.’ She let out a shuddering breath when she said it. Admitted it. She was scared. There, it was out in the open. She’d said it. ‘Not for a really long time. But when I joined the OCS, they told me what we were fighting and I – the wraiths, you see? It wasn’t long after that when I started to feel like this.’</p>
<p><em>Okay. Thought adjustment. Apparently, some Sisters </em>are <em>freaked out by the whole demon situation. </em></p>
<p>‘I remembered…’</p>
<p>Ava let that sit for a moment before she nudged with a subtle, ‘Remembered what?’</p>
<p>Camila’s arms squeezed around Ava’s shoulders hard. Ava thanked the Halo for giving her super strength or whatever, otherwise she suspected it would have broken something. She imagined the faint warmth in her back, less warmth, more of a stirring, as her mind brushed against the thought of the Halo.</p>
<p>‘I remembered something. And every time I come to a tunnel or a, an alleyway, anything like that, I <em>remember</em> and I’m—’ <em>Scared</em>, Ava filled in when Camila faltered over the word. Once was enough. ‘All over again.’</p>
<p>Ava hoped she made the appropriate sounds. Thoughtful, understanding without being condescending. Empathetic, not pitying.</p>
<p>‘I was eight, I think. Maybe nine. I was walking home with my brother—’</p>
<p>‘You have a brother?’</p>
<p>Camila smiled. Ava only caught it out of the corner of her eye but it wasn’t something that could be missed. It was like dawn—proper dawn, not the bloodied kind of their last few days. Brilliant, bright, and warm. ‘I have two,’ she told Ava, tone half-exasperated, half-pleased. Ava wondered what it might be like to love someone so much she shone with it. Ava wondered what it might be like to <em>be </em>loved by someone so much they shone with it. ‘Peter and Conall.’</p>
<p>‘Older? Younger? As hot as you are?’</p>
<p>‘<em>Ava</em>!’</p>
<p>Ava counted it as a win that, for an instant at least, Camila didn’t sound scared or miserable.</p>
<p>‘What? Just calling it like I see it.’</p>
<p>‘You <em>cannot</em> flirt with my brothers.’</p>
<p>‘Is that a rule or something?’</p>
<p>‘Mhm. It’s the <em>Thou shalt not flirt with thine friend’s brothers</em> rule.’</p>
<p>‘Oh, <em>right, </em>I think I’ve heard of that one. Must have missed the class on it though. But,’ Ava released Camila for a second, held up her hand solemnly. ‘I swear, I won’t flirt with your brothers. Not like we’ll be getting to do anything fun for a while anyway, right?’ She regretted saying it immediately, icy cold fear striking in her belly. ‘So! Brothers! Older? Younger?’</p>
<p>‘Peter is older. Conall is younger. I know people always think I’m the baby. It’s the face,’ she confided, sounding tired. ‘He’s three years younger than me and he <em>still</em> treats me like I’m the baby.’</p>
<p>‘Being the baby of the family is about more than age,’ Ava said with a grin. It faded when she realised she had no idea what she was talking about. ‘Or so I’ve heard. So – you were walking home. Baby brother or big brother?’</p>
<p>‘Conall.’</p>
<p>‘Baby brother. Gotcha. Set the scene for me.’</p>
<p>‘Inverness. It was a dark and stormy night,’ Camila joked, despite it all.</p>
<p>Ava turned her head, made sure Camila could see her smile, which she made all the brighter for seeing how pale her friend looked. Whether it was because she was talking about it, or because they were still moving through these tunnels, Ava wasn’t sure, but until Camila said she wanted to stop talking about it, or did stop, Ava would presume that this was helping her.</p>
<p>‘We were going from…school, I think. To my parent’s store. It wasn’t a long walk. Maybe ten minutes. We were two streets away when <em>it </em>happened. That, that part I remember clearly because there was an alleyway that led to the next road and at the end of it, the grocer and the tailor and my parents' store and – it was fine, it was <em>always</em> fine.’</p>
<p>‘Except once, I’m guessing.’</p>
<p>‘Except once,’ Camila agreed. ‘I was holding his hand.’ She shifted, gripped her own hands tightly. So tight that Ava knew she’d hurt herself if she continued. Reaching up with one hand, Ava wriggled it between both of Camila’s; Camila gripped her hand <em>hard, </em>and Ava let her.</p>
<p>‘He <em>stopped</em>,’ she told Ava, like it was the most peculiar thing. Breathless, still confused. ‘Right there, where we turned into the alley. And I remember I pulled at his hand, remember thinking it was <em>normal </em>because he was always slow… He’d catch up if you pulled, he was always just distracted by something or other. A bug or, or a cloud or…’ Camila breathed shakily. ‘He didn’t just stop, he <em>dug</em> his heels in.’ With both hands, including the one tangled with Ava’s, Camila shifted her hands to mimic the movement, the base of her palms pressing down in the air. ‘I remember I – turned back to look at him. He looked so <em>scared</em>. Looking at something over my shoulder. Ahead of us in the alley. Something right behind me.’</p>
<p>Ava shivered. Even as a story, there was enough true fear in Camila’s voice that it gripped something inside of her. The Halo burned with a reassuring, steady warmth, which was something.</p>
<p>
  <em>I wonder if Camila can feel it.</em>
</p>
<p>‘I could <em>feel</em> something.’</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh shit, Camila can read minds.</em>
</p>
<p>‘Right over my shoulder. Exactly where he was looking.’</p>
<p>
  <em>Right. Still telling me the story. </em>
</p>
<p>‘You could <em>feel </em>it?’</p>
<p>Camila nodded. ‘All the stories I looked up later… They said that ghosts were cold. Like being drenched in ice-water when they moved through – through you. Whatever was behind me, it was hot. Hotter than fire.’</p>
<p>The hair on the back of Ava’s neck and all down her arms lifted at the description, skin prickling. She had felt that—in the muggy, thick air of a shattered-tile bathroom, and in the stone-cold mausoleum beneath a wrecked church. The air searing itself into red and wraith, like they were burning their way between the worlds. The smell of it… not quite smoke but powerful <em>heat</em> stinging at her lungs with every panting breath.</p>
<p>‘What did you do?’</p>
<p>‘I froze. It got hotter and hotter and I knew whatever it was…it was coming closer and closer. I didn’t look. I remember this voice, in the back of my mind telling me not to look—that if I <em>looked</em>,’ She shook her head. Perhaps whatever threat, or warning, she had gleaned didn’t translate into words. Her free hand she brought back, set against her own sternum—against Ava’s spine—and knocked her knuckles there. Ava understood. The seizing sensation. The fear, knowing in a primal way what would happen. ‘I grabbed Conall up and I ran as fast as I could the long way round. When we got to the store, Conall was crying and I was – babbling, probably, about ghosts and hellfire and my da went with the priest but,’ she shook her head. ‘Nothing.’</p>
<p>‘But you were okay?’</p>
<p>‘Yes. Yes,’ Camila repeated, more certain. ‘Conall never talked about it again, though. I tried to ask him once if he remembered. He said he didn’t but…’</p>
<p>‘You think he saw it.’</p>
<p>Camila hesitated. ‘I don’t know. I suppose I thought he had. But – I looked it up. For months, when I got to Cat’s Cradle, it’s all I could do after they told me about the wraiths. And poor Sh- Shannon must’ve regretted being so kind to me, telling me I could talk to her whenever I needed. I asked her a lot of questions about the wraiths. She did the best she could, let me follow her around like a duckling,’ she said with a little laugh. The love in it didn’t hide the sorrow. If anything, each made the other more pronounced: the sorrow more potent for the love, the love more precious for the sorrow.</p>
<p>Camila took a moment before she spoke again, sounding hesitant, apologetic. ‘I did tell her. About all of this. I swear I’m not telling you because you’re the Halo-bearer,’</p>
<p>‘Camila,’</p>
<p>‘I was looking for answers and she was the one who knew about things like that. But you,’</p>
<p>‘Camila, it’s okay. Really.’ Ava waited until she sagged, nodded. ‘What did she say?’ <em>What was she like?</em> she didn’t ask. <em>Whose shoes have I stepped into? Whose shoulders held these burdens first? How did she do it?</em></p>
<p>‘She said it sounded like a wraith. Does it? Sound like a wraith, I mean? To you?’</p>
<p>Ava frowned. ‘Well, yeah. But I thought the Halo super-power – ’</p>
<p>‘The <em>sight</em> isn’t a super-power.’</p>
<p>‘But it lets me see it and so if your brother <em>did </em>see it,’</p>
<p>‘Then it probably wasn’t a wraith,’ Camila finished, nodding. ‘Yes, that’s what I decided too.’</p>
<p>‘Or,’ Ava mused, ‘maybe he did and it’s another thing we don’t understand about them.’</p>
<p>‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ Camila told her. From her tone, the suggestion hadn’t brought her much comfort.</p>
<p>‘So… You’re scared of these things. The wraiths.’</p>
<p>‘Yes and no.’</p>
<p>‘Ooh, helpful.’</p>
<p>‘Shut up,’ Camila laughed, slapped at Ava’s shoulder.</p>
<p>‘Are you allowed to say that? As a nun?’</p>
<p>‘Maybe not.’ Camila’s laugh petered away into a giggle. ‘I’m not frightened of the wraiths. I know how to fight them now. How to kill them.’ Ava was relieved to hear that there was hardly a note of upset in her voice at all, and doubly relieved that she was no longer under threat of being choked out by Camila’s death grip around her neck. ‘I think it’s knowing what could have happened. The stories I’ve heard, what I have seen the wraiths make people do… I walk into a place like this and I can’t help but wonder if I am walking right toward another one. And what it would make me do. Whether it would make me hurt my family.’</p>
<p>‘I get that.’ <em>Liar</em>.</p>
<p>‘Are you? Scared of them?’</p>
<p>‘Oh yeah. Big time.’</p>
<p>‘Oh.’ Camila’s arms tightened around her shoulders yet again. It was impossible not to feel it was a hug.</p>
<hr/>
<p>They walked on in that manner for some time. Ava wasn’t tired, and didn’t get tired, though she had been walking with Camila and both their bags on her back. If anything, she felt good. Grounded. A little warm with exertion, but good.</p>
<p>The Halo was a warm fixture in her back and Ava switched between forgetting about it and focusing intently on it. It was easier to forget about, weirdly enough—alive, awake, active in its way to help her work and burn away any tiredness, it didn’t feel like there was anything lodged in her back, not in the way it sometimes did when she woke up to it cold and silent. But when she remembered it—as she inevitably did every time she got distracted by the sight of her legs <em>moving </em>and the novelty of having to navigate slippery brick, and moss, and cracks in brickwork, and steps—she could <em>feel </em>it. Not just the heat, not the weird there-but-not-there pressure, but something <em>else</em>. On the outskirts of everything, like the flickering dots of light after she sneezes too hard—there, superimposed over her vision and then gone. Or like the heat of a not-quite sunburn. Or like the tickle of definitely a spider against her neck but it was never a spider. Or, or, or a dozen million things that weren’t quite right.</p>
<p>‘Ava? <em>Ava</em>?’</p>
<p>‘Huh?’</p>
<p>‘Can you put me down now?’</p>
<p>Ava blinked. Looked up from the brickwork floor to a totally new space. No longer were they walking through the tunnels, and she was dizzy with the realisation that she had been walking without paying attention. For probably a <em>while. </em>But the other Sister’s were standing not far from them, focusing intensely on anything but Ava and Camila, and Ava followed their line of sight across the large room.</p>
<p>The walls were the same—faded red brick, black-lined—but one of the tunnels had opened up into this large chamber. In the centre was what looked to be a cistern, a massive hole, basically, to hold water.</p>
<p><em>Storm water</em>, Ava thought, looking down into it. She couldn’t see anything but she figured that if it were sewerage it would smell a thousand times worse. As it was, she couldn’t smell anything more than the musty odour of stagnant water. There was a faint sheen that crossed the top of the pool, so it probably wasn’t <em>super </em>clean, but it wasn’t a giant toilet.</p>
<p>Camila tapped Ava’s shoulder. ‘Ava?’</p>
<p>‘Right. All passengers, please note that we have arrived at the final station. I repeat, final station. All passengers, please disembark and remember to take all personal items with you.’ Starting the announcement again in Spanish, she crouched low.</p>
<p>Dropping from Ava’s back, Camila sent her a small smile and an even smaller <em>Thank you</em>. She stepped around—affecting a slight limp—to join the others. As she approached, Beatrice turned. She looked between them once, her attention lingering first on Camila, and her “injury” before turning keen eyes on Ava.</p>
<p>
  <em>Uh oh. Busted.</em>
</p>
<p>Beatrice met Ava’s very innocent – maybe <em>too </em>innocent – expression with an impassive one of her own.</p>
<p><em>Okay</em>? Ava mouthed.</p>
<p>Beatrice blinked. Nodded briskly. She lifted her tablet, dropped her chin so that it blocked most of her face aside from the creased brow, and began to examine it with a single-minded focus that blocked out everything. Including Ava.</p>
<p>
  <em>Insignificant Ava. Lonely Ava—</em>
</p>
<p>‘What’s your trainline called?’ Mary asked, popping into place beside Ava. She gave a self-satisfied little grin when Ava yelped. ‘Sorry.’</p>
<p>‘No, you’re not.’</p>
<p>‘No I’m not. So?’</p>
<p>‘What are you talking about? Train line?’</p>
<p>‘Yeah. You had a name for our cooking show duet, whatever, after a second. You’re telling me you gave Camila a lift the whole way here and you <em>didn’t</em> give yourself a name?’</p>
<p>Ava groaned. Knocked herself in the head. ‘I <em>forgot</em>. Stupid.’</p>
<p>‘Stupid,’ Mary agreed. She looked to Camila, who was exaggerating her limp again. Thoughtful eyes returned to Ava, who braced herself for the questions—that didn’t come. Instead, Mary reached her arms over her head. Stretched, now that the ceiling wasn’t half an inch above their heads. Okay, three inches above Ava’s, but no one was counting. She cricked her head to the side, sighed happily at the loud <em>pop </em>as something cracked. Ava flinched. ‘Okay, how about – <em>On Angel’s Wings</em>.’</p>
<p>‘What? No. Awful. That makes me sound like one of those weird baby cherubs. Those ones that look like super ripped dudes but shrunk down really little? With the bow and arrow?’</p>
<p>‘If the weird baby wings fit…’</p>
<p>‘Hey!’</p>
<p>Mary shrugged, flapped her hands. The closest Ava was going to get to a surrender, she suspected. Mary glanced sideways to Beatrice, who was still examining her map. Clearly, they had time to mess around.</p>
<p>‘Okay. The Halo Express.’</p>
<p>‘The Halo Bearer.’</p>
<p>‘That’s your normal title.’</p>
<p>‘The…Sister Bearer.’</p>
<p>‘That’s weird.’</p>
<p>Ava grimaced. ‘Yeah. I heard it as I said it. Okay – the Angel Line.’</p>
<p>‘I said that already!’</p>
<p>‘No. <em>You</em> said <em>On Angel’s Wings</em>, which sounds like what someone would name a bodice ripper from the eighties. Probably featuring some lady who has a really boring job and life, day after day, and then an angel appears in a column of fire or whatever and turns her life upside down and – spoilers – the angel – who is <em>super</em> hot by the way – <em>totally</em> falls in love with her and they make sweet love high above the city, and there’s some line in that scene that is a call back to the title, and – ’</p>
<p>‘This got <em>really </em>specific,’ Mary cut her off.</p>
<p>‘I have a wonderful imagination.’</p>
<p>‘It’s <em>something</em>. I don’t know if I’d use the word wonderful. This isn’t a real book?’</p>
<p>‘Not that I know of.’</p>
<p>Mary pulled a face. Ava couldn’t tell if she was relieved or disappointed. ‘I’d read it.’</p>
<p>‘<em>Mary</em>,’ Lilith called, aghast.</p>
<p>Ava spun and found Lilith not far from her. Probably eavesdropping on them. Though Ava had to grudgingly admit, she would have been hard-pressed to <em>not</em> overhear them, sticking to their careful cluster. No one was supposed to disappear down any dusty tunnels—no matter how cool they might look (other than the slime) or how much they might be certain there could be treasure somewhere in the network.</p>
<p>‘What?’ Mary laughed, bringing Ava’s attention back to them. ‘Like you wouldn’t.’</p>
<p>‘It’s blasphemy.’</p>
<p>‘Yeah, but the fun kind.’ Ava shook her head. ‘What am I saying? <em>All</em> blasphemy is fun.’</p>
<p>From her heated glare, Ava heavily suspected Lilith was imagining her going up in flames—and also because Lilith flinched, ever so slightly. Ava knew that look. She got it. She <em>so </em>got it.  The flinch away from an awful thought, awful impulse. Was it worse for Lilith? Lilith, who could suddenly teleport, and grow her nails super long, and had gone prematurely silver? Who was so unsure of what she was capable of now? (<em>Unsure of who she is</em>? a quiet voice in the back of Ava’s mind suggested). Ava watched Lilith close her eyes and breathe out, calming herself; when she opened them again, Lilith had dropped from murderous to merely disapproving.</p>
<p>From a slight distance, Beatrice cleared her throat. ‘If you’re all done, I’d like to leave.’</p>
<p>‘<em>Seconded</em>,’ Camila said. If her tone was a bit forceful (it was), no one said anything about it.</p>
<p>‘You know where to go?’ Mary asked.</p>
<p>Beatrice didn’t reply. She simply pointed to one of the tunnels – on the opposite side of the chamber from where they had entered, naturally – and began to make her way toward it.</p>
<p>‘Hey, Bea,’ Ava tried, stepping up behind her. Her fingers brushed Bea’s elbow before she was pushed physically behind Lilith.</p>
<p>‘I go second,’ Lilith interjected. Corrected. Reminded her.</p>
<p>She wasn’t trying to be annoying, Ava was certain of that. And yet she was <em>so</em> good at it.</p>
<p>‘We’re in a sewer underground, I think we’re good. Can you just –‘</p>
<p>‘No. I can’t <em>just</em> anything. There is <em>protocol</em>, Ava.’</p>
<p>‘For being in a tunnel.’</p>
<p>‘For this extraction plan,’ Lilith explained, sounding like she was being extraordinarily patient. It made Ava flush, like she was being spoken to like she was seven and whining about being unable to move, and it had been unfair then and it felt unfair now and –</p>
<p>‘Fine.’</p>
<p>‘Fine.’</p>
<p>Worse than Lilith’s scolding was the fact that Beatrice barely blinked an eye at the altercation. And she <em>certainly</em> didn’t speak up to let Ava walk with her, which a small part of Ava had been sure she would. That small part rocked, teetered, with Beatrice’s seeming rebuff; Ava let Lilith guide her back into place, centre of the column.</p>
<p>They followed Beatrice and the path around the outside of the cistern. In places, the path was replaced by brick bridges arching over the channels that dropped away to some level below them; when they came to these bridges, they fell into single file and inched across, backs to the wall. Waiting to cross one such bridge, Ava sidled back to Camila, giving Mary a sheepish grin as she passed her. Mary ignored them both with the same ease she ignored the glare being focused with laser intent on them by Lilith “I Would Marry Protocol If I Could” Last-Name.</p>
<p>‘How’s the leg?’ Ava asked Camila, loud enough for the others to hear.</p>
<p>Camila flashed her a quick smile. ‘I think it’ll be alright.’</p>
<p>‘Yeah?’</p>
<p>‘Yeah.’</p>
<p>‘Awesome! But if it isn’t, I can totally –‘ Ava waggled her shoulders and then her brows. Camila had to stifle a giggle and she nodded.</p>
<p>‘Thank you, Ava. Truly.’</p>
<p>Ava nudged Camila’s shoulder with her own. ‘Sure. Any time.’</p>
<p>She was about to say something more, no doubt hilarious, when she heard something. A sound. Something that made Ava’s gut <em>lurch</em>. It was an unpleasant feeling, disorienting, like the sensation of missing a step in the dark, or dropping out of the sky back into her own body, unsure of what had happened or how much time had passed; there was a moment in which Ava could not say for certain <em>what</em> the sound was that had made her heart drop down into her gut, but as her brain began to parse through what she had heard, Ava was already moving.</p>
<p>Bricks cracking, crumbling.</p>
<p>The dry rasp and clunk of a boot sliding, heel catching.</p>
<p>A gasp.</p>
<p>The patter of many small things hitting the water below.</p>
<p>As her brain finally understood what was happening, Ava found that she was there. One moment she had been next to Camila, and the next she was crowding Lilith against the wall and away from the edge. </p>
<p>For a surprised moment, Lilith stood in the cage of Ava’s arms.</p>
<p>‘It’s just a bit of water,’ she scoffed, when they both had settled and realised – just a fragment of the brick, toppling down into the water. Nothing more. ‘I would have been fine.’</p>
<p>Ava tried to speak, tried to make a joke. She even knew what the joke would be. <em>Thought you might’ve melted. Wicked witch and all</em>. But something stopped her. Something that made her shake, filled her mouth with ask and her veins with molten iron—hot, at first, but then heavy as it cooled and faded. Ava leaned more heavily into Lilith, her grip tightening, and heaved an unsteady breath.</p>
<p>With a small sound of surprise, Lilith reached up. Set her hand on Ava’s back; it was a steadying touch, almost a hold. Her fingers splayed across Ava’s shoulder, smallest finger crossing over where the band of the Halo coursed beneath clothes and skin.</p>
<p>‘It’s okay,’ she told Ava, very quietly.</p>
<p><em>It’s okay. Hear that? She’s fine. Let her go. Don’t make it weird. Alright, it’s already weird. Just let her go</em>. <em>Ava—let her </em>go<em>.</em></p>
<p>Ava opened stiff fingers. Dislodged grit scattered down around their feet; she brushed red dust off onto her jeans, skilfully ignoring the impression of her hand left behind in the wall where she had partially phased into it. Silent, head buzzing, she followed Lilith across the bridge.</p>
<p>Mary grabbed Lilith when she hit solid ground after them. Gave her a worried once-over. Lilith withstood the inspection with a look of distaste. She rolled her eyes when Mary actually patted her, as though to make sure she was all there.</p>
<p>‘I’m <em>fine, </em>Mary. Old brickwork, that’s all.’</p>
<p>‘Good. Good.’ Mary stopped patting. One hand sat at the junction of Lilith’s shoulder and neck, above her heart. It was a calming touch; it was a claiming touch. Lilith’s expression softened to something unsure. Ava wondered if she shouldn’t avert her eyes, if something private weren’t being communicated between the two, but even as she thought it, Mary was pulling back and clearing her throat and Lilith was as stern and impassive as ever. ‘Good save, Ava. Quick reflexes.’</p>
<p>
  <em>Was that what it was? Reflexes?</em>
</p>
<p>Ava shrugged. Lifted her hands prayerfully before her and said, words heavy with faux piety, ‘The Halo works in mysterious ways.’</p>
<p><em>That</em> earned her a scolding (Camila), and a laugh (Mary), and a long searching look (Lilith) that Ava could only meet for a second before she looked away.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The tunnels rose steadily. In one place, the brickwork had been knocked down and fed into a newer system, which they hurried through, wary of being caught now that they had reached something modern and – judging from what Beatrice pointed out to be fresh boot prints – in use. It was early enough still, and they had made good enough time, that they encountered no one by the time they reached their exit. Ava leaned thankfully against the wall; she may have been pre-emptive in her thinking that the Halo would stop her from getting tired. And she was relieved with the protocol when it apparently meant that Lilith climbed up the ladder first. She eased the hatch up, peering out from it, before pulling up through the space and dropping the hatch back down. That was, she was relieved until she realised that Lilith was <em>alone </em>up there. Heart in her throat, Ava strained her ears, listening for any hint of a struggle. A minute passed, and another, but there was no sound of fighting or alarm. All that came was the squeal of metal as Lilith returned, finally, flipping the hatch open for them all to climb up.</p>
<p>‘Any problems?’ Beatrice asked, first to join her.</p>
<p>‘No. All clear. Shower is on the second floor.’</p>
<p>‘Shotgun,’ Mary called, and hurried two steps at a time up the stairs. Camila followed close behind. Beatrice meanwhile moved past Lilith into the next room.</p>
<p>Ava watched her go. Should she follow? Could she follow? Did Beatrice want that? Or would she continue to be oddly…cold as she had since they entered the tunnels? Had she done something wrong?</p>
<p>‘Probably.’</p>
<p>Ava rolled her eyes at Lilith’s teasing. ‘Did I say that out loud?’</p>
<p>‘Obviously.’</p>
<p>‘Shit.’</p>
<p>Lilith shook her head, corner of her lips twitching upwards. ‘You didn’t,' Lilith said a moment later, tone rather gentle. 'Not everything is about you. Beatrice is… She won’t allow herself to be distracted on a mission. It makes her an excellent sister warrior.’</p>
<p>‘She didn’t act like this when we were heading down into the crypt.’</p>
<p>‘Perhaps because that mission had a goal other than keeping us all alive.’</p>
<p>‘…Oh. So it’s like – extreme compartmentalisation or something?’ Lilith looked startled and Ava huffed. ‘I know things, you don’t have to look so shocked. Is she okay, though?’</p>
<p>‘She’s doing her job.’</p>
<p>‘So… No.’</p>
<p>‘I could ask the same about you.’</p>
<p>‘Me?’</p>
<p>‘How did you get to me so quickly before?’ Lilith asked, and she tilted her head to watch Ava. Being watched by Lilith was like being watched by a hawk; there was something wild about her now that was about more than just her hair hanging loose around her shoulders. Sometimes, Ava felt her eyes on her, tracking her. Fixed on her back. There was little of that now, thankfully. Lilith’s eyes were firmly on Ava’s face, her expression.</p>
<p>‘The Halo –‘</p>
<p>‘You haven’t shown an ability for foresight before.’</p>
<p>‘Whoa, whoa – is that a <em>thing</em>? There have been Halo Bearers who can <em>see the future</em>?’</p>
<p>‘If there have been, you are not among their number.’</p>
<p>‘I could be. Don’t limit me, Lilith.’</p>
<p>‘You aren’t. And you’re avoiding my question.’</p>
<p>Ava shrugged. The gesture felt petulant, so she sighed and gave into having to have a conversation. ‘I don’t know. I just…heard it happen and then I was next to you. Do <em>you</em> know how I did it?’</p>
<p>Lilith’s dark eyes flicked across Ava’s face. Eventually, she settled back on her heels, relaxed. ‘I have some thoughts.’</p>
<p>‘And?’</p>
<p>‘When I am confident, I’ll let you know.’</p>
<p>‘Seriously?’ Lilith only arched her brows and Ava huffed. ‘Fine! I didn’t want to know anyway,' she lied. 'And you’re <em>welcome</em>, by the way.’</p>
<p>Storming away through the house, Ava soon found that the tunnels had let them out into Rome. They were well past the walls of the Vatican in a narrow two-story house squashed between others of the same style. It wasn’t an OCS safehouse—that much was obvious from the lack of any religious iconography, not even a cross. There were, however, many signs of less reputable behaviour.</p>
<p><em>Then again, </em>Ava reconsidered, touching a finger to what she suspected was a still, <em>the OCS fully fights people and needs safehouses so…</em> Reputable was, perhaps, a figment of her imagination.</p>
<p>She wandered until she found Beatrice in what was once probably a kitchen. The place had been stripped – the sink remained, but the cupboards were without doors and there was little else in the room save a few bottles of cleaner beneath the sink and a table shoved up against the far wall beneath a shuttered window. Beatrice stood by the table, examining her blades.</p>
<p>Ava stepped up beside her.</p>
<p>‘Hi.’</p>
<p>‘Hello, Ava.’</p>
<p>Beatrice barely looked up. Ava bolstered herself with the information Lilith had given her; she didn’t hate Ava, she <em>didn’t</em>, she was just <em>focused</em>. Focus was cool. Focus was sexy—<em>nope, bad Ava</em>—focus was important.</p>
<p>It wasn’t something Ava had ever been good at.</p>
<p>‘What’s this?’ Ava asked, reaching for a jar on the table. It had a screw-on lid, which Ava unscrewed, and was stuffed with crumpled bills. There was a note taped to the jar that Ava couldn’t read. Italian? ‘What does this say? Can you read it? I’m totally just assuming at this point that you can.’</p>
<p>Beatrice smiled, very slightly. She spared the jar a glance. ‘If you take something, pay for it.’</p>
<p>Ava hummed. If she were being frank, she’d say she was disappointed with the translation. But she was being Ava—<em>ha!</em>—so she just hummed, nodded, set it back into place. She turned away—and stopped when she noticed that Beatrice’s attention hadn’t returned to her knives. They were on her. Light. Fond. Ava’s heartstrings gave a nervous thrum.</p>
<p>‘What?’</p>
<p>Beatrice looked to the jar and back to Ava. ‘It…is a little ruder than that,’ she admitted.</p>
<p>‘Wh- Were you holding out on me?’</p>
<p>‘No. I told you what it says.’</p>
<p>‘But you weren’t going to.’</p>
<p>‘…No,’ Beatrice agreed. Her lips pulled into a sly smile. ‘But you looked so pathetic, I thought it might cheer you up.’</p>
<p>Ava’s jaw dropped, at first in shock at the candid words, but when delight hit a moment later, she didn’t bother to pick it up. ‘Wow.’</p>
<p>Beatrice smiled properly then. Turned her knife over, and then over again between her fingers. She was playing with it more than she was examining it for dirt or damage or whatever it was she did. ‘What are you doing down here? I would have thought you’d be fighting for the shower.’</p>
<p>‘Are you kidding? Against professional warrior nuns? Thanks, pass. I like my ass un-kicked.' She admired Beatrice's smile for a moment before her mouth was moving again with zero input from her brain. 'Hey, weird question – do you think I can phase out of dirt?’</p>
<p>Beatrice turned, frowning. ‘I don’t see why earth would be different from stone or plaster.’</p>
<p>‘No, I mean, if I phased now…would I be clean? I was thinking about it before and I was torn because I phase through things that aren’t me but if I’m dirty…is it my dirt and I take it with me? And if I <em>did </em>lose the dirt, it doesn’t mean that I’m clean, like, I would still smell like a sewer—right?’</p>
<p>Beatrice blinked. ‘I don’t – I don’t know.’</p>
<p>Ava grinned. ‘Wanna experiment with me?’</p>
<p>‘Wanna rephrase that?’ Mary asked from the doorway, towel slung over her shoulder.</p>
<p>Ava flushed, cheeks burning. ‘That’s not what I meant.’</p>
<p>Before they could start anything—Ava was inclined toward murder, Mary seemed inclined to tease her more—Beatrice interrupted with a crisp, ‘Perhaps later. Go get ready – we don’t have this safehouse forever.’</p>
<p>Ava took the out offered. Mary still blocked the doorway, so she jumped through the wall and away, ignoring the laughter that followed her.</p>
<hr/>
<p>News of the events of the night before already papered the city by the time they stepped out from the safehouse. Every stall seemed to scream their actions in plain black-and-white, and Ava could see the Sisters growing more and more tense the further they walked from the relative safety of the tunnels, and the safehouse. At the next stall they passed, Ava stopped. She plucked one of the papers from its place on the rack.</p>
<p>A bored-looking woman was sat in a cheap plastic chair beside the rack. She glanced up from a tabloid crossword. ‘Due euro.’</p>
<p>‘I’m just looking.’</p>
<p>The comment didn’t have the reaction Ava expected. The woman reached over and snatched the paper from Ava, shook it at her. In English, she scolded Ava. ‘This is no library! Two euro!’</p>
<p>Ava recoiled, surprised. A step back had her knocking into someone—who lifted a hand to steady her, fingers skating up her spine and pressing flat just below the Halo—and she turned to find Beatrice at her side. She flushed instantly; she couldn’t help it, still thinking about her comment that morning, and dropped her eyes.</p>
<p>‘Due euro, grazie.’</p>
<p>The hand on Ava’s back fell away. It didn’t leave Ava feeling cold or bereft. Not at all.</p>
<p>Beatrice dug in her pocket for the coins and dropped them into the woman’s hand, picking up another copy of the paper. ‘Ava. Let’s go.’</p>
<p>‘I just wanted to see what they were saying.’</p>
<p>‘It’s a good idea,’ Beatrice agreed, ‘but we need to go.’</p>
<p>The others had crossed the street ahead of them to a small plaza, and Beatrice hurried to join them. The plaza was largely empty, the area burning hot from the white stone reflecting the midday sun, but that meant that they found a table near to the road that was empty. Slipping their bags beneath it, Lilith finally relaxed; the bags were the most conspicuous things about them, usually kept in rooms or vehicles, and they were going to be exposed until they found someplace new to hide them. Ava slid into place opposite Beatrice. The bench was hot, even through the fabric of her jeans, and she pulled her hands up from the table with a hissed breath, forearms smarting against the hot wood.</p>
<p>‘What did you get?’ Camila asked. ‘What does it say?’</p>
<p>Beatrice held up a hand, holding off the questions. ‘Mary, we need transport.’</p>
<p>‘I saw a few that might work, but I don’t love the idea of doubling back,’ she told them quietly, eyes scanning over the streets. Not the people, Ava noted. The <em>cars</em>.</p>
<p>‘You’re going to steal a—’</p>
<p>‘<em>Ava</em>. Quiet.’</p>
<p>‘Oop. Right. <em>You’re going to steal a car</em>?’ she hissed. ‘Do you need help?’</p>
<p>‘I could help,’ Camila offered. She shrunk down when four pairs of eyes fixed on her. ‘Um.’</p>
<p>‘Your vows, <em>Sister</em> Camila,’ Lilith said warningly.</p>
<p>‘But Mary – ‘</p>
<p>‘ - is not a sister of our order. She does not observe the same rules we have sworn ourselves to.’ Lilith didn’t say that the sisters held themselves to a higher standard; it would have been difficult <em>not</em> to hear the implication, though.</p>
<p>‘You’d be in a mess if I did,’ Mary countered.</p>
<p>With an emphasis on <em>you</em>, Ava noted. Her eyes darted back to Lilith. It was like watching a tennis match. Except that instead of another cutting remark, Lilith dropped her eyes to the table—and to the nail that scratched curls into the wood. She snatched her hand back, dropped it down into her lap.</p>
<p>‘I could help,’ Ava blurted out, pulling their attention from Lilith.</p>
<p>‘You?’ Mary laughed.</p>
<p>‘Hey! I could! I’ve watched a <em>lot</em> of movies where they steal cars – they had a professional car thief in Elementary, you know, and it doesn’t look so hard! It’s – I mean, they didn’t <em>exactly</em> show how to do it, but –’</p>
<p>‘Maybe next time,’ Mary told her. ‘Maybe.’</p>
<p>She disappeared into the streaming crowd. Ava turned to eye Camila.</p>
<p>‘What?’</p>
<p>‘Awfully eager to hotwire a car, <em>Sister</em> Camila.’</p>
<p>Camila smiled sheepishly. ‘It’s not about stealing. Not really. I want to,’ she glanced at Lilith and Beatrice, who pretended not to be listening. ‘I want to be <em>doing</em> something, that’s all.’ There was something bright in her eyes, not just eagerness. Something that bordered on desperate.</p>
<p>Ava nodded. ‘I get that. It <em>sucks</em> sitting around and not being able to do anything. I get it.’</p>
<p>‘Oh. Right. Because…’</p>
<p>Ava frowned. Tilted her head as though she was confused. ‘Because?’ she nudged.</p>
<p>‘Because you were paralysed.’</p>
<p>‘Oh! No, not at all, that was great—I loved being a burden for those assholes.’</p>
<p>‘<em>Ava</em>,’ she chided. The brightness in her eyes was all glee, this time.</p>
<p>Ava didn’t look to see the expressions on Beatrice or Lilith’s faces, kept her eyes on Camila. ‘I’m <em>kidding</em>. But I did mean with you guys. You’re all so cool and you bring all your stuff to the table and I’m like, hey, check it out, my back glows sometimes.’ She laughed, relished the way Camila laughed with her. When their laughter faded, Ava was left with a warmth in her chest and in her shoulder where she was leaned into the other girl.</p>
<p>The warmth in her back, a perfect circle, she ignored.</p>
<p>Beatrice unfolded the newspaper and spread it out in front of them.</p>
<p>
  <em>EXPLOSION AT THE VATICAN – ACCIDENT? OR ACT OF TERROR?</em>
</p>
<p><em>Many a visitor to the Vatican asks the same question</em>, Ava read. <em>What do the different colours of smoke mean during a conclave? Before today, we would have told them that white smoke means a new pope has been chosen. In fact, that is exactly what happened earlier today. The grey smoke that exploded from the north of St. Peter’s basilica has nothing to do with the new pope—except for being an ill omen, an attack in the first hours of his papacy. </em></p>
<p>‘Oh, this is not good,’ Camila moaned.</p>
<p>‘They don’t mention us,’ Ava said, already finished skimming the article. ‘That’s not too bad.’</p>
<p>‘No, see here? <em>Agents were seen fleeing the scene.’ </em></p>
<p>‘There is no description of us,’ Ava adds. ‘This could have been way worse. There were heaps of cameras, they could have got our faces. Shit, they could have had <em>video</em> of us.’</p>
<p>‘Ava is right. Someone cleaned this up,’ Lilith said.</p>
<p>‘Duretti?’</p>
<p>‘Perhaps. Mother Superion did say she’d deal with it.’</p>
<p>‘I thought she meant like, <em>deal</em> with it,’ Ava said, subtly making a stabbing motion. Lilith glared at her. ‘What?’</p>
<p>‘She deserves your respect.’</p>
<p>‘Hey, I respect the hell out of her. It doesn’t mean that she’s not<em> terrifying</em>.’</p>
<p>‘She <em>can</em> be scary, Lilith,’ Camila agreed.</p>
<p>‘Did you kn- ’ Ava stopped, bit her lip. Beatrice looked up from her thorough scrutiny of the paper, brows raised in a silent question. Ava shook her head; she had thought better of the question. Some things weren’t hers to talk about. ‘Nothing. Forget it.’</p>
<p>Lilith did so immediately, returning her attention to Beatrice’s map, which she unfolded in front of her. Beatrice waited, curious eyes on Ava.</p>
<p><em>Later</em>, Ava mouthed. Beatrice nodded slowly.</p>
<p>They settled into silence.</p>
<p>The heat didn’t abate. If anything, it grew hotter and more stifling. It burned across Ava’s shoulders, and the sound of the city seemed to grow louder and louder. Cars honked, drivers threw themselves onto their brakes with squealing tyres and a flurry of angry Italian, doors slammed closed, engines rumbled, exhaust pipes coughed exhaust onto the road already hazy with the heat. The day smelled of that smog, and of grease and hot milk from the bin close by. Ava felt her eyelids droop and a spark of panic burst through her, electrifying. Ava's eyes shot open, wide and watchful.</p>
<p>Camila sighed. Tapped her foot. She craned her neck to search the crawling traffic for anything or anyone that might be Mary.</p>
<p>‘Patience, Camila,’ Beatrice remarked without looking up.</p>
<p>Camila obeyed. She stilled herself, clasped her hands in her lap. Ava was the only one who could see from this angle that Camila squeezed her hands in short bursts: one two three, one two three, one two—a pause, a hold on the two. Ava looked up to find Camila’s eyes locked on a passing van. Black-tinted windows, blue paint that had seen better days, wheel arches rusted. It slowed to a crawl, but passed on, and Camila resumed her one two three, one two three. She muttered under her breath; Ava assumed it was a prayer.</p>
<p>‘Are you worried?’ Ava asked quietly, leaning close. She dropped her hand to the hilt of the sword, wrapped as it was in a dirtied coat and resting across her lap. <em>Hilt, not sheathe</em>. She was learning all kinds of shit, she knew things now, she was totally a full member of this team.</p>
<p>Camila shook her head. ‘Not really. I’m reminding myself to stay calm. To focus, be patient.’</p>
<p>‘Oh.’</p>
<p>‘In a delicate plan,’ she said, in a tone that said she had memorised it, ‘to be impulsive is to take uncalculated risks and can jeopardise the mission.’</p>
<p>‘Sounds like Lilith.’</p>
<p>‘It was Bea, actually.’</p>
<p>‘Ah.’</p>
<p>‘I really am trying,’ she told Ava, and it must be a sore spot for her if she were trying to convince <em>Ava</em>.</p>
<p>Ava shrugged. ‘I bet even Beatrice had problems with patience as a kid. Not that you’re a kid. I just mean, you start somewhere, right?’</p>
<p>‘I didn’t,’ Beatrice disagreed. The map and paper folded up small and slid into the inside of her jacket without issue.</p>
<p>‘Right. So you <em>never</em> went looking for Christmas presents in November?’</p>
<p>‘Certainly not.’</p>
<p>Ava squinted over at the girl. ‘I don’t believe you.’</p>
<p>Beatrice shrugged. ‘Believe what you like.’</p>
<p>‘I don’t believe her,’ Ava said sidelong to Camila, whose smile pressed dimples into round cheeks and stars into her eyes.  </p>
<p>'My mum would say you're stirring the pot,' she said to Ava, who couldn't decide if she was chiding or approving. She eyed Ava appraisingly before she nodded, quite decisively. 'She'd like you a lot.'</p>
<p>The day was burning hot, her skin warm with it. It made it easy to feel the sliver of hate—cold, mercurial, there-and-then-gone—that shot down Ava’s spine at the words. For a breathless moment, she was afraid of herself. Of the way hate gripped her in freezing claws.</p>
<p>‘Ava?’</p>
<p><em>This is </em>Camila, Ava reminded herself. <em>Don’t be an ass. </em>The ice melted. ‘If she’s anything like you, she’s awesome,’ Ava told her, and threw an arm around Camila’s shoulders. When Camila wrapped her arm around Ava’s waist a moment later to hug out the remainder of their wait, any remnants of that cold fled.</p>
<p>Mary beeped them from the sidewalk. She hadn’t been gone that long, perhaps twenty minutes, but they were all relieved to see her and especially the van she had collected. They were ready to be gone from Rome, and from anyone who might have been at the Vatican the day before.</p>
<p>It wasn’t a particularly beautiful vehicle – it was a faded green, the paint sun-spotted white in places, and there were flecks of black paint where a name or logo had been peeled away on the side. Beatrice and Lilith hurried to the back and threw the bags inside. They held the doors open for Ava and Camila, who climbed inside.</p>
<p>‘This is gross,’ Ava said, nudged an empty can with the toe of her shoe.</p>
<p>‘Yeah, well, that’s what happens when your plans go sideways. You hide in crappy motels and steal crappy vans.’</p>
<p>‘The plates?’ Beatrice asked, pulling herself up into the passenger seat.</p>
<p>‘Clean. I switched them out.’</p>
<p>‘Good. We should go.’</p>
<p>Mary nodded. Swung the van out into the traffic.</p>
<p>They trundled along quietly, stopped more often than not. Ava and Camila and Lilith were sat in the back. The heat found them here too and Ava was sweating. She sat up from where she was leaned against the back of the driver's seat, peeled herself off the leather, and scraped wisps of hair from the back of her neck, trying in vain to get them to stay in place in her ponytail.</p>
<p>‘The Divine Path,’ Lilith said out of the blue.</p>
<p>‘Huh?’</p>
<p>‘For the name of your trainline.’</p>
<p>Ava blinked. Frowned. ‘Oh. That’s a good one.’</p>
<p>‘That’s the best one we had,’ Mary called back from the driver’s seat.</p>
<p>‘That’s not fair,’ Ava said, thumped her hand against the seat. She ignored Mary’s <em>Don’t fuck with the driver!</em> ‘You’ve known each other way longer, of <em>course</em> you’d say that.’</p>
<p>‘It could just be because Lilith’s is the best name,’ Camila countered.</p>
<p>‘<em>Et tu, </em>Camila?’ Camila had the decency to look ashamed. Lilith just smirked. ‘I’m ignoring all of you.’</p>
<p>‘Oh no. Ava’s not incessantly rambling,’ Lilith mocked. ‘However will we survive?'</p>
<p>‘Hmph.’</p>
<p>Wriggling into a comfortable position, Ava drew the coat up and over her, trying to block out the heat and the sunlight that came through the windshield. She soon found herself blinking slower and slower, the now-familiar rumble of the van all around her a lullaby and the trundling movement of speed bumps and turns rocking her. The deep exhaustion she had been fending off all morning reappeared, loomed over her. Ava struggled to keep her eyes open, and Camila caught the action. She smiled.</p>
<p>‘It’s okay,’ she soothed, and reached across to brush Ava’s hair back off her forehead. Her thumb brushed tenderly over Ava's temple, and the touch - so gentle, so sweet - made Ava squeeze her eyes shut, a lump forming in her throat. </p>
<p>Keeping her eyes tightly shut, Ava tumbled into sleep.</p>
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